


like the stars miss the sun (in the morning skies)

by viktuuriousred



Series: Frontier AU [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Adoption, Alpha Victor Nikiforov, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Historical, American Civil War, American Frontier, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Correspondence, Dark Past, F/F, F/M, Heavy Angst, Loneliness, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Mail Order Brides, Miscarriage, Omega Katsuki Yuuri, Oregon Trail, Period Typical Attitudes, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, multiple character deaths, selective mutism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-10
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-04-21 08:13:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 120,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14280738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viktuuriousred/pseuds/viktuuriousred
Summary: Twenty-year-old Yuuri Katsuki feels like a lost cause when his longtime boyfriend dumps him after a nearly deadly miscarriage leaves him to believe he is barren, effectively ruining him and his reputation. Omegas are not supposed to mate outside of wedlock, and he knows that no respectable alpha would court him after the shame he's brought upon himself.He also knows that responding to an advertisement for a mail-order bride would be a brilliant solution to his problem. A midwestern tradesman like Victor Nikiforov would never suspect the darkness of Yuuri's past if he never explicitly revealed it, would he?Eager to make a new start in the midwest, Yuuri is astonished to discover the hardships of the travelers heading west to Oregon and those that come into his own new married life. To survive the hardships, he must become stronger than he ever thought imaginable, push the limits of his very being, all for the man he loves and the future he wants to create for himself. But will it all pay off, or will his past catch up to him?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I want to forwarn that future chapters may have both explicit and violent content. There also is description of sexual assault.

Nebraska’s never seen such rain, Isabella Leroy’s husband tells her once their wagon has gotten stuck in the mud for the upteenth time. Even under her umbrella, the wind blows the rain at her skirts, successfully soaking them by the time they can see a home in the near distance. Mr. Leroy promises he’ll just be a minute, but Isabella has no mind to complain. Getting out of the rain doesn’t bother her in the slightest, even if it does mean listening to her husband share the same war stories that he’s told for the past three years.

She’s glad it’s over, and that he’s safe. At twenty-four, she isn’t the first young bride to have given up her husband for the war cause, but she feels like she’s one of the few that hasn’t made up for the time lost. The two years he was gone was too long. She feels, even though she still is quite young, that her youth was taken from her by waiting all this time to actually live with her husband, and that is the reason she’s yet to bear him a son. It’s been quite frustrating.

Mr. Leroy helps her down from their horse and the two of them are greeted on the porch of the decently-sized home— an inn, she decides— by a young boy wearing clean coveralls and leather boots, which surprises her. Most folks that live along the trail have no such luxury.

“Where’s your father?” Mr. Leroy asks, and Isabella peeks behind him into the dark house. She starts to wonder if he lives alone, as most parents wouldn’t be far behind when their child was answering the door.

The boy fails to reply, simply nodding towards the well-worn road that many travelers take to get out west. There is a fort or some town nearby, Isabella knows, because that is where they are headed to visit family. She hopes they won’t have to get there tonight, through all the rain, and that this boy’s father won’t mind that they are here.

“What’s the matter, can’t talk?” Mr. Leroy frowns. “Open your mouth, boy.”

The boy shakes his head, holding open the door and motioning for them to come into the dark house.

“Now you listen here, kid. What’s your papa going to say if he finds two strangers sitting up in his house?”

He simply shrugs and goes to the hearth in the kitchen, where dinner is still cooking over the fire. The place isn’t very tidy. Isabella is beginning to grow concerned for this boy.

While her husband struggles to get the boy to speak, she takes a step back and begins looking around the house, though what catches her eye is the upstairs loft, where a candle is glowing against the wall. Quietly, she climbs the ladder and nearly falls off at what she discovers— “Jean!”

***

The omega isn’t much older than herself, but she can tell he has seen a great many hardships as one understandably would, living out on the prairie like this. But more alarmingly, he is feverish and heavily with-child, too delusional to answer her questions, but it seems to be that he has gone into labor. Whether it was on time or not, she didn’t know.

The only indication of the father’s prior presence lies in the evidence of the omega’s wedding ring.

Mr. Leroy couldn’t get a word out of the boy no matter how hard he tried, so eventually he found a comprimisation by getting him to write the answers to his questions, as he clearly wasn’t deaf.

“What’s your name? Where is your father?” Mr. Leroy asks.

Quickly, he scribbled his response. _Yuri Plisetsky. My father is dead._

The Leroys exchanged looks. “How long has… has he been like this?” Isabella says in regards to the sickly omega.

_Two days. Hasn’t woken up since noon._

“And why do you two live out here alone?” She dips the previously used washrag in a bowl of water and rests it over the omega’s head.

 _Only sometimes._ Yuri looks to Isabella, and tears fill his eyes as he writes a final message. _He was sposed to come back today. I don’t know what to do._

“Do you mean the child’s father?” Mr. Leroy stands, a bolt of lightning nearby lighting up the room. The thunder is so loud it stirs the omega just long enough for him to notice the strangers in his bedroom.

Yuri nods, but he doesn’t write another word.

“Well, that settles it. I’ll go out and look for him. If he was supposed to be back today, then perhaps he got stuck in the mud like we did. Bella, stay here with these two. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“I don’t know how to deliver babies!” She calls after him, but it’s no use. True to his word, Mr. Leroy is already outside and mounting his horse. Before a minute has passed he’s on the edge of the property, and she really is left alone with this strange, little family.

Yuri stares at her with wide eyes, and admittedly it is quite an uncomfortable moment. “Ah, let’s see… I was present at my niece’s birth. And Mother always…” She rambles on for a moment before deciding what needs to be done first. “Okay, Yuri, go haul some fresh water for this bowl and get him something to eat.”

Yuri obeys. He climbs down the ladder and braves the storm to run across the yard to the well.

When he is gone, Isabella timidly pulls the sheets back. To her horror, there is blood, but not too much. The sheets are also soaked with what she hopes is fluid from the omega’s water breaking, but being that a young boy has been taking care of him for God knows how long, it could be urine. She can’t imagine why this omega’s husband would leave him so close to the birth of their child. No responsible man would do such a thing, she believes.

Once Yuri has come back with the water, she sends him out so she can properly take care of the omega without him seeing. After resting the cool rag against his skin, his eyes start to flutter open, but his lips are too chapped to speak. Isabella quickly offers him to drink, and he finishes his glass in one long sip. Finally, and with a rasped voice, he begins to ask who she is, but she stops him. “I’ll explain the reason I’m here in a moment. My name is Isabella Leroy, and I need you to sit up so I may change the sheets. Where do you keep them?”

The omega swallows, pointing weakly towards a cupboard on the other side of the room. “Wonderful.” Inside, she also finds towels and an extra blanket, so she takes everything she assumes she’ll need. “Do you think you can sit up, or shall I help you?”

With little difficulty, the omega sits long enough for her to replace the soaking sheets, but his clothing, too, is soaked.

“Where do you keep your clothes?”

The omega swallows again, then clears his throat. “T-The chest by the window…”

Isabella retrieves underwear and a loose cotton nightdress, and the omega does not hesitate to allow her to undress and then dress him again. She notices rashes on his thighs from sitting in this unclean bed for so long. To be safe, she puts a towel under him so that he can be completely dry.

“Is that any better?”

He shakes his head, smiling slightly. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“Isabella will be fine.” She says, placing all the dirty linen in a basket by the ladder. “Will you tell me your name, though?”

“Yuuri.” He leans back in his bed, eyes slowly shutting again.

“Yuuri… just like the boy. Is he your son?”

“Not biologically.” Yuuri whispers. “This is my first.”

“Oh, congratulations.” She beams at him, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “I’m sure you and your husband must be thrilled.”

At this, Yuuri begins to cry, and Isabella is taken aback at the sudden change of emotions. “He doesn’t know. I never told him.”

She stands there, gaping at him. If she was ever to be blessed with a child, her husband would be the first to know about it. She’d travel across the entire country, go all the way to Oregon by herself if need be, just to be the one to tell him about it. And here is this sickly pregnant stranger who must not have seen his husband in _months_ to not have had him notice his rounding belly.

“W-Why doesn’t he know?” She sits on the side of his bed, offering her hand when he fights through a particularly painful contraction.

Yuuri takes a few breaths to steady himself before looking at her wearily. “He is a tradesman on the trail. He’s been gone for four months straight. And… and I wasn’t supposed to be able to have any children. We never thought…. _I_ never thought I’d be here today, after…”

“After what?”

“After what happened five years ago…”  
  
**TBC**


	2. Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He loses everything, but perhaps by finding a new life in the midwest, he might gain some peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: sexual violence and miscarriage.

Not very far down the road from the stranger’s home, Mr. Leroy has slowed his pace because of the high winds. He doesn't want to be thrown from his horse, because then he would be stranded out in this storm for God knows how long. The sky doesn't look quite right, and he is apt to jumping off his horse and making a run for it into the town that's still about a mile or two away.

Jean-Jacques Leroy was born in Quebec on a farm in the middle of nowhere. That’s where he was taught to ride and where he decided that the life and values his parents had wasn’t for him. His mother was a schoolteacher and his father caught fish for a living. He and his eight siblings ran the farm. Every day was filled with hard work and limited reward. His father died young from overworking himself.

Being the oldest, he was destined to run the farm and live the exact same life as everyone else. The only reason he stayed was to care for his widowed mother, but at twenty-two, he left that life, met Isabella, lived in the city of Montreal and made a new life for himself as a city man. It broke his family's heart, he was sure, but he had to start leading his own life. There was no way he'd allow himself to have the same fate as his father.

Now that the war was over, he was back to leading a leisurely life as a banker in a sizable townhome in the city.

Being out on the prairie like this made him question why everyone didn’t live the same way.

Because this town is dusty and dry when it hasn't rained, has wild animals roaming everywhere and most importantly, its current weather isn't great.

He doesn't have to look behind him to know exactly what kind of weather he is facing. All he knows is, if he doesn't get into town and fast, he will be a dead man, and if that poor omega's husband is out here, he will be too.

The tornado forming in the near distance isn’t as large as some he’s seen before, but it could kill anyone standing out in the open. He starts to wish he stayed back at the house.

***

The wind picks up outside the thin stained glass window in the loft, strong enough to rattle it and send a draft through the house. Yuuri shivers, then asks Isabella to close the curtain; apparently that has helped in the past on cold nights. She imagines what he might have gone through during a winter storm, when the house would feel so very cold from the snow and wind...

"Our old house was much nicer." Yuuri says after a while, pulling his new blanket up over his shoulders for warmth. "And this one was, too, but there was an awful storm over the summer that nearly toppled this place over, and I'm not a carpenter."

"Didn't you ask for help from someone in town, Yuuri?" She pours him another cup of tea, which Yuuri hesitantly accepts.

"Of course I did. But our house wasn't the only one with damage. Many people in town have the same problem I do." He sighs. "Our old house’s roof was taken out by a storm. Luckily most of the stock in our unit behind the place was saved, but all our furniture, belongings... everything was destroyed."

"Oh, that's terrible." Isabella cannot even begin to fathom the strength of this young man. If her and Mr. Leroy's home suffered the same fate, she'd demand him to move someplace tornado-free, or leave him.

"I wanted to move back to Delaware. Yes, we had the occasional Nor'easter, but it was better than those damn tornados, in my opinion anyway."

"I'm sorry, I'm not exactly familiar with the United States. I'm from Canada." She says sheepishly. "But I assume it's on the east coast, where you're from. If that's so, how on Earth did you end up all the way out here, Yuuri?"

He smiles faintly. "Honestly, it surprised even me. It's quite different out here. Quiet. Lonely. I hate when he goes away. I get so mad at him for leaving, and yet every time he returns I practically throw myself into his arms and refuse to let go of him until he leaves again."

She gives him a look of pity, of which he refutes: "It's not a one-sided affection. He does miss me when he's gone. He just knows that he has to take care of his business so we can keep moving on. He doesn't have a lot of money, but his possessions are extensive and we could have quite a bit of gold if that's what I asked for."

"What do you ask for, then?"

"For him to come home safe." Yuuri says. "And... and sometimes for some new things, too. I may be smitten, but I'm still practical."

She smiles at him. "I noticed your boy wears nice clothes. Most children we've passed thus far are barefooted until winter."

"Yes, well... I figure there's no need for that. I won't have a child running around in the dirt without shoes. There are snakes out here and all sorts of creatures who might hurt him. And if it's wrong to put shoes on a child, then maybe I really should go back to Delaware."

"Why don't you, then?" She asks. "After your baby is born. Your family could help you take care of them."

"I'm not sure we'd get to the nearest train by the snowfall, but... I do miss them. I haven't seen them in five years nor have I received a letter in almost three."

"Yuuri... I just don't know how you do it."

"Do what?"

Their attention briefly shifts to a loud clap of thunder outside that sends Yuri clambering up the ladder in fright. She's surprised he didn't cry or call for him like a normal child would, but then she's reminded that he's clearly mute and decides not to comment on it.

"Oh, are you afraid of the storm?"

Isabella swears she hears the boy say “yes”... She frowns.

"It's not going to be like last time. There's no tornado coming this way. I promise." Yuuri strokes his hair, and little by little, his son calms down from the frightened state he had been in when coming up the steps. The moment is so calm, so peaceful, it makes Isabella forget why she's here in the first place.

But for Yuuri, every rumble of thunder, every gust of wind reminds him of a time long ago when he had been out in a storm, just like his husband was now…

* * *

  
_ Then _  
**Dover, Delaware, 1854**

Yuuri Katsuki. Twenty years old, unmarried, son of an optometrist, who was the son of a merchant that journeyed the world to make his fortune. The Katsuki name was known well in the town of Dover, for their charming hospitality and good prices on spectacles. Mari Katsuki was the wife of a man who built a hotel in the quiet Kitts Hummock, and their wedding was held at the old Episcopal church in town, though neither family was a member of that parish at the time.

The Katsuki’s started attending soon after, though, taking along their young son so that he could learn about God and get a Christian upbringing, though in my opinion, it was already too late for that.

Because while the Katsuki’s were then known as hospitable and generous, Yuuri Katsuki had unintentionally written a new name for himself on the night of his seventeenth birthday at the Kitt’s Hummock tavern while his sister was out of town and he was left to watch over things at the hotel.

And three years later, the name has stuck.

Yuuri Katsuki was known as the whore of Kent County. The only people who didn’t know his title were his own parents and sister, though some suspect Mari may have known, being that her inn saw quite a few folks. If she did know, she never brought it up with Yuuri.

It was a well kept secret from them, too, and it wasn’t until his stomach turned a strangely round shape shortly after his twentieth birthday, his parents discovered all that had been hidden from them.

Yuuri Katsuki was pregnant and would not confess the father. An unmated pregnant omega in their close-knit community would destroy the family’s reputation. So they sent him on to stay with his sister at the inn, but that lasted hardly a week. Everyone knew Yuuri there, too, so it would be impossible to hide his pregnancy.

So he was then sent to Baltimore to live with an aunt. That, again, didn’t last long, either.

His “aunt” was actually kin to Mari’s husband and therefore had no blood relation to him. She was devoutly Christian and while she was kind enough to take him in, the kindness ended there. Once she found out Yuuri was unmarried, she treated him little better than a servant and made him wait on her hand and foot. He slept on a thin mat in the attic in the cold of winter, which was terrible on his back.

Yuuri left after a few weeks of the hell known as Baltimore unannounced. He stole a horse and galloped his way back towards Dover without thinking of the consequences or just how he was going to get there without any money for the ferry. It didn’t matter, anyway. No sooner had he reached the Chesapeake…

***

It was late at night, he remembered that, and he should’ve stopped miles back at an inn. He could’ve slept in the stable, but he panicked once he got close to the inn and found himself being followed at some distance by strangers. Even now, their speed has increased with his and the distance between them decreased. Thunder rumbled overhead and Yuuri wondered why they were getting a storm so late in the year.

He was a young omega that was alone in the dark of night with no one around for miles. And he was weaponless. His father had a large rifle above the kitchen door in their house and he never once had to use it. He always said it was there as a sign not to try him, but Yuuri was convinced it was actually a fake gun. And even if it was real, it was highly likely that there weren’t any bullets left in it after all this time.

The only person in the world he can think of that might protect him was the father of his child, who was currently waiting for him on the Bay with a boat at this very moment, and he was so close to being with him again that his heart has to remain hopeful that he’ll be here any moment now to save him from the strangers. But Yuuri knew better.

If this child’s father cared, he would have married Yuuri two years ago when they first started hooking up. Yuuri thought it would be a one-time event, but he always came back to see Yuuri and he supposed he fell in love.

(Temporarily).

((These days, he was only with him because of their child)).

Yuuri glanced back to see if the men had caught up. One look, that was his mistake. Because the riders had caught up.

One of them shot at his horse.

It threw him, and he landed in the shallows of the bay. He was closer than he thought. Yuuri landed on a buried log under the water, knocking the wind out of him....

He was powerless.

The water was ice cold, and had he not been in so much pain, he would’ve fought himself to get up and run like hell across the water.

By the time he forced himself onto his fours, he felt a hand grip his hair at the scalp and yank his head backwards. The blade against his neck should have scared him, but he was numb. He didn’t feel anything other than the chill of the night air.

“Figured I’d find you here.” A voice against his ear. Yuuri stifled a sob. “And honey, why is it that everyone in Dover knew about our little accident…”

“Why… why are you doing this?” He whispered, eyes squeezed shut.

“You know what folks used to do in the old days to whores? They’d get stoned out in the street by their whole neighborhood. Consider this a much simpler punishment.”

“So you’re going to kill me… even though you’re the one that did this to me?” Yuuri grit his teeth together. “You think I can do this to myself?”

“Oh, honey,” He chuckled, lifting Yuuri into his arms. “I’m not going to kill you. I would never do that.” He walked back towards the pair of horses, and Yuuri could not see his own horse from here. “See, I’m going west this spring. All the way out to Oregon. I wanted to take you with me, but… well, I guess I figured out that it wouldn’t be the best idea. And I couldn’t have the world thinking I was some kind of deadbeat dad.”

“And this baby will live out of spite of you.” Yuuri spat at him. “And they will have your name, boy or girl… and everyone will know what you did, you will never be able to run from it.”

Rocks cut into his bare knees when he was dropped on the ground. No sooner did he try to sit up than he was kicked back down again, pointed heel resting on his back. “Honey, it seems like you wanna die, the way you keep running your mouth, and I really don’t want to have to kill you. I mean, I practically loved you for a while there, till your reputation got around. Then everyone saw me as a fool for messing with you, but even now I have to admire your will. Let’s end this on a better note than you dying below me.”

Tears stung at the corner of his eyes, but Yuuri stayed strong. “Let me go, then. I’ll go back to Dover and raise your baby alone. I thought you were better than this and would want to raise him beside me.”

“And what happens if I take you with me? The trail is no place for a baby.”

“You won’t hear a word from me or the baby. I won’t bother you about him. Just let us come with you… don’t turn yourself into a monster over a rumor. No one out there would ever know what happened back home.”

And for a moment there, Yuuri really did seem to get through to him. They set up a camp on the bayside, and the man that had been with them went back to wherever he came from. The baby’s father lit a small fire and took Yuuri’s clothes, giving him a thin blanket to cover himself with so that the clothes could dry. His stomach cramped awfully, but Yuuri wouldn’t show it. He didn’t understand what it meant and he was too afraid to find out.

The baby’s father opened a jar of canned food and gave a little to Yuuri, though he kept most for himself as he planned on staying up throughout the night to keep watch. Yuuri watched him while he ate.  
“What are you staring at?”

“I’m still hungry…” Yuuri said quietly. “I haven’t eaten today other than the bit just now.”

“This is all I got, honey.”

“Where did you come from, anyway? I thought you’d have a boat.” He hugged his stomach. “You said you did.”

“I do. It’s up the coast a bit. I stopped at a tavern for a drink and saw you galloping by.”

“And the man with you?”

“Ah, I don’t know what he was doing, actually. I guess he wanted to see what I was chasing.”

Yuuri shrugs. “You know, we could always… get married now. In a chapel and nobody would have to know. Then, when we go West, there will be no one to–“

“No decent priest would marry a man to a pregnant person.”

This, of course, upsets Yuuri. He said nothing in reply and simply hid himself further under the blanket, laying down on top of his damp cloak. He couldn’t see the stars that night, and the air smelled of snow. With how this man treated him, Yuuri was sure that he would leave him there to be buried alive.

He didn’t know exactly why he started crying, but it overtook him and he could no longer care to hide it. His sobs were louder than he’d be comfortable with had he not been so out of it, and worst of all, the man he was supposed to love didn’t so much as bat an eye, which hurt worse than words could ever describe.

After a while, the baby’s father dumped his canister of water on fire and they were submerged in darkness. And in Yuuri’s case, cold. “W-What are you doing…”

“I’m not going anywhere, honey,” He listened with tension as the footsteps moved closer to him but stopped at an unknown distance away.

“T-Then why did you put the fire out?”

“Because even in winter, people often walk along the water. Dumbasses, if you ask me.” He continued, “I don’t want them to see us, that’s all.”

“We can’t be the first people who’ve camped here.” Yuuri said.

“Doesn’t matter. What if you’re recognized and associated with me? I mean, we’ve been apart for a while, who’s to say you haven’t been whoring it up in Maryland?”

“I hate that word.” Yuuri whispered, wiping the tears away from his eyes for the thousandth time, he was certain. “You know it’s not true, what they say about me.”

“Who cares if it’s true? Once a rumor like that goes around there’s no chance of taking it back.” Suddenly, the baby’s father knelt beside him and, startling Yuuri, removed the thin blanket around him. “I don’t know why you ever put yourself in this situation, honey. You know that omegas are supposed to be kind and pure and all that shit, why would you disrespect your parents like that?”

Yuuri bit his lip. “I got _tired_ of it.”

He raised an eyebrow at him, as if he didn’t understand, as if Yuuri hadn’t ranted to him, cried to him about this very topic a dozen times before.

“You know, t-there’s just so much I can’t do, every last move is watched by literally everyone in the community, being an omega means I cannot get a job because I’m deemed too emotionally unstable-”

“Which you are,” He interjected.

“Shut up. I felt so trapped. I wanted to do one risky thing, that’s all.”

“Or three risky things in your case.”

“You know what? Why don’t you just leave, you never listen to me.” The blanket was removed and Yuuri’s naked form was exposed to the dark world. He didn’t so much as try to cover his modesty; he was used to this exposure.

“Honey, you really are too emotional.” Yuuri heard— but did not see— the baby’s father undo his belt buckle and let it fall to the ground. His heart started to pound. “I never know what to do with you.”

“If you did… would you actually do it?” Instinctively, Yuuri wrapped his arms around his neck when the man leaned down and kissed his neck. “Would you take care of me, this baby, do you want to?”

“You talk too much,” He mumbled, breath hot against the scent gland in Yuuri’s neck. He had never marked him before, as that was a practice sacred to marriage itself, and Yuuri was probably the only omega who left it uncovered comfortably. He didn’t see the importance of covering it, and it wasn’t like it was a law. Still, every time a man came close to it, he grew a bit nervous, he feared someone would overstep their boundaries and stake claim on something that wasn’t theirs to take. Just as expected, the man’s teeth graze over the gland—never biting down but close enough to threaten the idea. He would be lying if he said it didn’t feel good, but that did not mean he wanted the contact in the first place. “You know, what drew me to you in the first place was how charming you were with that mouth of yours. Now I hardly hear what the world sounds like without it. A good omega is quiet and obedient. You want to marry me, don’t you? Well then, you’ll have to start listening to me.” He slipped a hand between Yuuri’s legs for the first time since coming over here, but just to spread them apart and make more room for himself. The man settled himself between Yuuri’s legs, and Yuuri bit back the cry of pain that came every time inconsiderate men didn’t think of preparing him for their penetration.

“S-Stop, I- I don’t want you to—” Yuuri tried to push himself up under the weight of him and the fear of what might happen next.

“Can you not hear?” He pushed Yuuri’s head down, knee forcing his legs apart. “Shut up.”

“Don’t touch me.” Yuuri shoved his face back, which did little more than enrage the man into trying to hurt Yuuri more than he already was. “Get off of me!”

“Bitch.” He kneed Yuuri’s stomach. “You ask me to marry you and you shy away from the commitment.”

“I said _get off_!” Yuuri had never punched anyone in his life, and he did it just a fraction of a second too late. His scent gland was pierced by the man’s top teeth, but he was unable to completely bite down. He used to be called the whore of Kent County, but now all he felt was half-claimed.

Ruined.

And I don’t think the baby’s father cared about all that, honestly, he was just livid that Yuuri had rejected him in such a way. He projected his anger through his actions, not his words this time as he had always done before. Yuuri had been beaten before, but never like this. Never so terribly hard that the world faded to black.

He thought about his parents back home. He thought about the life he could have had by now if only he hadn’t messed around in the first place and grew up to be the respectable omega they wanted him to be.

After he finished himself off, the man rolled Yuuri onto his side to remove the cloak from underneath him. He packed up camp and stuffed all he could into his saddlebags but removed a knife from it. He lifted Yuuri by his hair— shoulder length and a beautiful, silky black that many people in Dover had envied. Not anymore. With uneven, forceful slices, the man cut off all of Yuuri’s hair, keeping it all in the satchel at his waist. He was tempted to poke the tip of the knife through Yuuri’s skin and cut up his face, but he decided to save that for another time. “You know, regardless of if this baby lives, you’re still mine. And I will find you someday, Yuuri, if you ever…” His head snapped up at the sound of a horse cantering nearby, and he knew if he didn’t leave soon that his actions would be discovered. “I will find you.”

***

  
When Yuuri woke, he wished he could have died right then and there. It was cold and windy like the day before, but he didn’t care to cover himself. He was completely naked, alone, and covered in blood from the waist down. Looking to his right, his horse still stood closeby, grazing on a bit of dead grass. It was the only thing to remain loyal to him through all his struggle. His only hope for getting help was by taking off its saddle and using the saddlepad to cover himself. He couldn’t get up past his knees, so he crawled to the creature, every bone in his body aching from the experience he was given the night before. There was no time to cry, not even any time to process what he knew was happening.

But when he reached his horse and felt another gush between his legs, he finally lost the strength to move another inch.

Head against the damp sand, Yuuri took a few deep breaths to attempt to calm himself down. He had always been anxious by nature, but this did not count as an anxiety attack, to him. Something serious was happening.

Forcing himself to hold his head up, Yuuri spread his legs and felt at the blood between them. It wasn’t just blood. He knew what it was and yet he refused to believe that he was losing his baby so suddenly. It hurt.

“Oh God, please… please don’t do this…” He wept, squeezing his legs together. “This- this can’t be happening… I’m dreaming… I have to be dreaming…” Because reality had become far worse than any nightmare, Yuuri was convinced it was all a dream. But no matter how many times he hit or pinched himself he was still bleeding and still losing his baby on the very shores that he planned to raise them on. Yuuri gave up on himself. Tears streamed down his face, mixing with the sand from sleeping overnight on the beach. The bitter cold bit at his face, and soon he collapsed into the sand in the exhaustion from sitting halfway up.

He lie there, staring up at the unforgiving sky and begged for God to take him, too. That was the day that Yuuri Katsuki of Dover died.

  
***

  
It didn’t take long for the usual travelers to notice the oddity on the beach. A horse with no rider struck many as strange, but no one stopped until an older woman and her husband caught a foot beside the horse. They immediately steered off the road to see what was going on. “Oh, my God.” The woman’s hand instantly shot up to cover her mouth, and her husband yanked the reigns, jumping out of his own saddle the moment his horse was slow enough. “What the hell happened here?” He shouted at the sight of the victim on the ground. He turned back to his wife and added, “ _Get something to cover him with, he must be freezing_!”

Yuuri felt himself being lifted onto someone’s saddle after a moment, but he refused to care to look up. To so much as move. “My name is Christophe Giacometti. You are in good hands.”

The Giacometti’s took Yuuri into a nearby town where they lived. It wasn’t as busy as Dover, which meant not as many people would see how he was practically naked in Christophe’s arms.  
Mrs. Giacometti had her servant clear out the guest room and soon Yuuri found himself under warm sheets, though he knew his danger was far from over. He barely stayed awake long enough to study the faces of the strangers who saved his life.

The next time he woke, only Mrs. Giacometti was sitting beside him, and her face was quite pale. When she noticed that his eyes were open, she raised a glass to his lips and ordered him to drink. While he drank, she spoke softly, “If you stayed out in that weather a minute longer, you would be dead. There’s a half a foot of snow on the ground right now.”

Yuuri’s response was a simple sigh, he hadn’t the strength to give more than that.

“I’m Lara. What’s your name?”

He looked away.

“Alright, don’t tell me. I just will not know what to call you.”

Perhaps that’s a good thing, Yuuri thought.

“I do not know why you were on that beach. Almost dead, my husband says. You are losing your baby, and I am terribly sorry. I only hope that you will find comfort in this house. You are welcome to stay as long as needed.”

Yuuri nodded. “T-Thank you.”

“Do you have a family someplace? I’d imagine if you do, they would be quite worried by now.”

“I have family in Delaware. I was here with a friend, he’s bound to be miles from here at this point. He did this to me.”

“How terrible.” She said, because that was all she could say. It’s not as if something could be done about the violence inflicted on omegas in their society. That’s not to say she didn’t want to do something, though. My, if she had an ounce of courage, she would send whoever did this to the young man to hell, escorting him there personally. But she was a thirty-five year old woman with young daughters and reputation was everything. “I’m with you, young man. You will be safe here.” After this, she stood to look out the window at the icy bay. “My husband is going west in the spring with me and our two daughters. Not all the way, like most, but just west enough for a bit of peace and good money. He’s going to partner with a friend of his who runs a trading business. Do you have anyplace else to go?”

Yuuri shook his head.

“Then you must come with us to Missouri. I could not live with myself if I left you here alone.”

He told her that he would consider it, and that was all that was said on the subject.

It had been an abstract thought in his head for some time now; going west like so many had already done. He had never been out in the country and the busy energy of city life or even in a town like Dover could be exhausting sometimes and cause anxiety. But perhaps life out there would do him good...

  
***

  
The baby came early in the afternoon. Lara was with Yuuri through the entire delivery, and both cried together when it was born alive because it wouldn’t be for long. It was a baby boy and only lived for about twenty minutes, too small to survive on his own out in this cruel, unforgiving world. Yuuri gave him a name, pressed kiss after kiss onto his head and wept until his heart ached inside him. When his labored breathing started to slow, Yuuri wished again that he had never met this child’s father and lived the life his parents wanted. If he did, this child would never have been born, but at least he wouldn’t have to suffer through a painful, premature death.

And Yuuri wasn’t very religious, but he spent the baby’s dying moments praying for his older brother who also had died in infancy years ago, to watch over his son in the afterlife and care for him as Yuuri never could.

When Yuuri’s first son died in the fall of 1854, he felt no guilt, though he knew that many would blame him for the death, call the baby a “bastard child”, or tell him it was a good thing he died, he did not share those views. He knew that everything should have been avoided. The man who did this to him was the one who was going to suffer for this untimely passing.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t have made a better life for you, my sweet baby,” He whispered to him. “But perhaps in the next one, you can make one for me. I love you.”

* * *

  
**January, 1855**  
***  
**Man Seeking Bride  
*****

  
The title alone caught Yuuri’s eye one morning while flipping through Mr. Giacometti’s newspaper after he had left for work. The servant girl cleared the table, and Lara’s daughter Louisa helped her.

“What are you reading, Yuuri?” Lara asked, squeezing his arm. She peered over his shoulder at the ad. “What does it say? I cannot read English.”

“Oh… this man lives in Missouri and wants a bride to help care for his adoptive son and himself. He says he’s got good money and owns several branches of general stores across the midwest. He’s a tradesman, but he is in Washington until the end of February.”

“Oh? What’s his name?” Lara turned back to her sewing, humming to herself.

“Victor Nik- eh… Nikiforov.”

She dropped her needle.

“What?”

“I know that man! Victor came to America with my husband. Since then he has made quite a name for himself out west. He is a good man, and hardworking, too.”

Yuuri pinched his lips together, turning back to the article. “Well it says here that he’s looking for a bride. I’m not sure I qualify. And besides, nobody would-”

“Yuuri, you’re beautiful and kind and deserve to be loved and treated right by a good man. A good, oblivious man who has no idea who you are or where you come from.”

Yuuri paused.

It’d been almost surreal living with the Giacometti’s for the past two months. Most of it was spent on bedrest, of course, but never had he felt so at ease when staying with a family that wasn’t his own. Lara, she was so kind to him and treated him like a son. The girls, only a few years younger than him, taught him how to sew so that he’d have something to do with himself while in bed all those weeks. And Christophe and his wife actually included Yuuri in their Christmas celebrations, buying him things that he will need once they went West in the spring, which Yuuri had somehow decided to do. (It’s not like it was a hard choice to make. Despite the fact that his ex very well might run into him, he felt safe with the Giacometti’s, and did not have anywhere else to go anyway.)

He still had his own room but as of recent made sure to earn his keep around the house. Lara taught him recipes during the day and Yuuri was shaping up to be a good cook. He did laundry for them (despite the servant’s protests), washed the dishes and anything else that came about. And when there was nothing left to do he would entertain the girls with stories or lessons, as neither had gone to school past the eighth grade. Both were quite smart and eager to learn, and soon enough Lara would find them waiting by Yuuri’s door for him to wake in the morning so that they could get an early start on their lessons.

The thing they all liked about him most, though, is that Yuuri had a way with music. He was taught to play the piano at a young age and was good at playing popular tunes that kept the Giacometti’s amused. He could sing, too, but no one knew this except for the servant who had caught him on more than one occasion singing to himself while folding a sheet or mending a petticoat. His voice was clear and controlled, never unsure or wavering. It soothed, like a mother’s voice should. It was a real shame he never became one, but that baby rested in a hidden grave in the thick of the forest someplace, never to be raised by such a sweet person as Yuuri Katsuki was.

Yuuri was hesitant to bury him at first. He knew that if he buried him here, he would never visit him again and have nothing to remember him by, but Lara promised they’d fashion a keepsake in memory of the baby that Yuuri’d bring with him wherever he went, and he believed her.

The Giacometti’s really were kind to him, and he hoped that they all would make it West safely. And that the happy life that he was starting to achieve here just might last…

“I think you should write him.” Lara snapped Yuuri out of his daze, and he realized that she had somehow taken the paper from him. “I’ll tell you what to say. I too responded to one of these types of advertisements at the age of eighteen. Within three months I was married and pregnant with my twins.” She laughed. “There are men that are simply vile and cruel, but those men on the frontier, they get lonesome. There aren’t many women out there for them so they resort to writing for love. Christophe didn’t write asking for a hard worker to raise his adopted son like Victor here, but I’m sure his intentions aren’t malicious. It really wouldn’t hurt to write him, and you don’t even have to write back if he replies to you, but you’d be a fool not to.”

“I don’t even know if I trust you to tell me what to say.” Yuuri began copying down the reply address on a piece of one of the twins’ scrap paper so that he could cast the newspaper aside. “What if he doesn’t like me?”

“Impossible.” Lisa, the older twin interrupts.

“There’s no way he won’t, Yuuri.” The other twin, Louisa, added. “You have to write him!”

“Alright, alright, I will.” For some reason, he felt butterflies fluttering in his stomach. He knew it was wrong to feel this way about something like this, because this Victor Nikiforov would never choose him. But it was fun to try, he supposed. And it really couldn’t hurt to ask. “Is he handsome?”

“Yuuri!” Lara said something in her mother tongue that, if Yuuri’s two years of French lessons were correct, meant something he was not comfortable with repeating out loud (but yes, Victor apparently was handsome). “Now Lisa, run to your father’s study and get us some fine paper and his good feather pen. Better yet, take a few pages in case his penmanship fails a time or two. Men like neat handwriting, it shows dedication and patience.”

Lisa hurried in the direction of Christophe’s study, and Louisa began copying Victor’s ad onto her own page. When asked, her excuse was, “In case you get married. You can frame this in your house.” Yuuri blushed, but he didn’t stop her from writing as her penmanship was sloppy and she most certainly needed quite a bit of practice.

When Lisa returned with the paper, Yuuri’s hands trembled as he waited for Lara’s instructions.

“Alright, Yuuri, this is what you will say,” She pursed her lips. “‘In response to your advertisement…’”

***

_To Victor Nikiforov, in response to your advertisement,_

_My name is Yuuri Katsuki. I am twenty years old and from Dover, Delaware, though I now reside in a snug cottage on the Chesapeake. The family I currently live with is moving west in the Spring, and I was informed by them that you are of acquaintance. The Giacometti’s, Christophe and Lara, tell me you are a hardworking and good man, and the only person to complete you would be someone like me. I have never been married nor have I been around small children quite often, but I can learn and am willing to help you in whatever way I may be needed. Lara tells me you own several stores in the midwest, so I can imagine you are a busy man who hasn’t the time to keep a clean home. Rest assured, Mr. Nikiforov, though my skills are a bit weak when it comes to childrearing, housekeeping and cooking are some of my most notable attributes. I look forward to hearing from you, unless you have found someone more suitable than me, which I’m told you won’t._

_Cordially,_  
_Yuuri_  
_P.S., Lara made me write the last sentence. I swear to you that I am not as self-centered as this letter may picture me to be._

***

  
With the letter, Yuuri bashfully attached a photograph of himself. The following day, Yuuri and the twins went to the post office and sent the letter. “Oh, won’t it be romantic when he replies?” Louisa swooned on the walk back to their cottage. “You must invite us to the wedding, Yuuri. We’ll make you the most beautiful gown the world’s yet to see.”

The excitement bubbling up inside him threatened to overflow at her words.

The following days were agony for Yuuri as he waited for a letter that he wasn’t sure was coming. The girls, too, grew impatient, as they had suddenly become quite invested in his love life. They were so impatient that Christophe threatened to go to Washington himself to check on Victor and force a pen in his hand so he would reply after the girls harassing the postman one too many times.

And Yuuri was just afraid of what the letter might say, even if it wasn’t a curt “NO” written in large text and with Yuuri’s photograph attached as a sign of his rejection. An acceptance letter was just as nerve-wracking. It kept him up most nights as he tried to recall whether or not his handwriting and the letter itself were appropriate and “luring” enough for Victor to respond to him. He did what Lara had said, after all, as she was the one experienced in this sort of thing.

But finally, finally, one afternoon the twins came running down the lane towards the cottage, shouting Yuuri’s name and waving an envelope in the air. He had been seated in the garden—as it was pleasant outside— and their excitement alone sprung him to his feet and had him racing to meet them and be the first to read the letter, if they had not done so already. Once the letter was in his hands, Yuuri knew everything would be okay, regardless of the answer. Because at least he replied.

He didn’t open it right away, much as he wanted to. Lara insisted that he sit down in the parlor, and everyone else—Christophe included, gathered round to listen to what Victor Nikiforov had to say. It was odd being the center of attention, having everyone waiting with bated breath for what a letter for himself had to say...

And perhaps it might have been better for Yuuri to read it to himself first, but his surprise would be as genuine as theirs. Taking a deep breath, Yuuri opened the envelope and carefully pulled out the letter. Then, he began to read.

  
***  
_To Yuuri Katsuki,_

  
_I am pleased to see that my advertisement has reached you. Admittedly, you were not the first to respond to my ad, but you are the first to capture my attention. (You have no idea what kind of things I have seen this week…!) But, do tell me, what is it that inspires you to take such risk for a life out west at my side?_  
_Christophe Giacometti and I have decided not to choose permanent residences near our stores, but as of current I live in Independence, Missouri— a busy town during the spring when all the travelers go west, but I am told it is pleasant for the rest of year. I live above my shop in a home that is quite spacious, with two full levels and lavish furniture that I’ve gathered through the course of my career. Should you accept my proposal and meet me here, I can guarantee you will be quite comfortable._  
_But I’m sure you are wondering why you should accept my proposal when you know so little of me, so I will share a bit more as I hope you won’t think such things. I am twenty-seven and my birthday is Christmas Day. My only brother lives in Fort Laramie, running one of my shops and my parents live on a farm near Independence. I was born in Russia and came to America almost fifteen years ago with the ambition to make a life for myself. I hope, in the future, to move to Nebraska and farm near a fort or town so that I can begin to sell crops, but if my dream sounds like a nightmare to you, then I will gladly cast it aside for your comfort. I have a son, though he is not by blood. He will be four this spring and his mother died after his birth. His father died recently in a fire and the poor dear hasn’t spoken a word to anyone since, as he was present at the time. His name is Yuri Plisetsky, and despite his silence he has been quite agreeable. I am with him right now because his father and I were very good friends growing up. Yuri and I took a photograph together last week, which I have attached so you will be at ease in questioning whether or not I am real._  
_I hope to see you in person soon._  
_Victor Nikiforov_

  
***

  
With trembling hands, Yuuri took the photograph from its place in the envelope and everyone noticed the audible gasp when Yuuri caught sight of Victor Nikiforov’s face for the first time. He must have had very light hair, for it appeared white in the photograph. His eyes were light, too, like the boy that stood beside him. Yuuri wondered how well he would be able to raise that child. He knew toddlers were often defiant, and especially orphan ones. But Yuuri had always been told he had a way with children, so there was that to hold onto.

Anyway, after his gasp and the dead silence while he observed his future family, Yuuri reread the letter, and then again.

“So, Yuuri, what do you think?” Christophe was the first of the Giacometti’s to ask after a while, though everyone wanted to know.

Yuuri gently folded the letter back into the position it had been when sealed in the envelope, smile stretching across his face for the first time in what felt like forever. “I… well… I think I’d better hurry up and reply in case he thinks I’m not interested.”

The parlor erupted in cheers and everyone talked at the same time, though Yuuri was in a daze, staring at the photo of his fiance to be. He stared at the man who actually wanted to marry him, but it was also the man he’d have to hide so much of his life from. He wasn’t sure he was ready but he wouldn’t know until he got there and met him…

* * *

  
Over the next few weeks, letters and even telegrams flew back and forth in between Yuuri, who really, really was engaged now to the man he had never met, and his fiance. Victor was charming with his words, though, and put to rest any of the worries Yuuri had before. He responded well to all of Yuuri’s questions and asked quite a few of his own. It seemed like he wanted to know everything about Yuuri.

While the Giacometti’s slowly began to pack up their belongings for their upcoming long trip, Yuuri set to sewing a traditional quilt for his marriage that he and his husband will lie under on their wedding night, which makes his stomach feel a bit strange at the thought.

He wondered if the other people who’d responded to Victor’s ad felt jealous that he chose Yuuri over them. And for some reason, that made him feel good. He was chosen over countless others. Lara said the photograph won him over, and that made Yuuri more giddy than he’d like to admit.

It was a good photo, taken on his nineteenth birthday as a gift from his godmother. It was quite charming, he was told, and the only other people in the world that held a copy of it besides himself was his parents and the man he was desperately trying to forget. He hoped that that particular man had destroyed it already.

While sewing their quilt together, he reread Victor’s most recent letter.

  
***  
_Dear Yuuri,_

  
_In response to your question about religion, my parents raised me in the Russian Orthodox Church, but there are none in the area, so they go to a mission church in town because they like the fellowship. Personally, I haven’t gone in years and with my busy schedule over the spring and summer I don’t see a reason to. If you want me to, I’ll start going again._  
_It’s so busy in Washington. The streets are always bustling, and it’s nothing like the trails I’ve been acquainted with all these years. At night, camps on the trail are great places to be. Families and friends huddle by fires and tell stories or sing folk songs, but Washington never sleeps and the folks aren’t the kindest if you ask them to sing round a fire with you. You said you are from a town yourself. I wonder if you will like it out west. I hope you’ll be happy here._  
_Yours, Victor_

***

And that night when his anxiety peaked as he had finally processed all that was about to and had happened, he sent a note to Victor that he would later regret and wish he could take back… 

***  
_Victor,_

  
_I think you’re making a mistake in marrying me. Not only am I not the woman you would ideally need, but I suffer from nervous tendencies that will surely annoy you should they make their unannounced appearance on our wedding night. I require a lot of care and attention and I’d surely just annoy you. In fact, I think I already have annoyed you with all my writing, pestering you when you’re clearly a busy man._

***

Yuuri,

_If you want to back out of this now, there’s nothing I can do to stop you, but I must persuade you to reconsider. I truly have grown quite fond of you through our correspondence and am counting down the days until we are together. Also, I don’t mind a nervous tendency, and if you’d allow me I would like to help you through those “unannounced appearances”, regardless of when they happen._  
_Also, Yuri seldom does anything with me or acknowledges my presence, but every time a letter from you arrives his eyes light up and he sits on my lap, waiting for me to read it to him. I think he is more eager for your arrival than I am, if that’s even possible._  
_Victor_

  
***

  
Yuuri held the letter close to his chest the night before he was to leave to see his parents for the final time. He wasn’t sure how they would react, being that the last time they saw him he was pregnant with another man’s child. But he felt like this might be his last chance to make things right with them, as it was unlikely that he’d return to the east coast once he married Victor.

They might find it pathetic that he was desperate enough to respond to some random man because he couldn’t find a partner anyplace else. Or they could think he was only using Victor to avoid his past mistakes. But Yuuri was genuine with his intentions regarding Victor Nikiforov. He wanted a new start, and even though he did not know Victor, he felt like he would be safer with him than he would be as a single man. That, and a small part of him hoped that Victor might come to love him so he might experience real love for the first time in his life.

That night, he fantasized about the future that he would have with Victor in the midwest. The emotional rollercoaster known as the past 3 months of his life had reached the final loop. After this, there would be no more troubles, no more crying.

The only downside of marrying Victor was that if Victor should want children, because according to the town doctor, Yuuri had suffered a lot of damage with the loss of his baby and should avoid pregnancy at all costs. His only comfort was that Victor’s adopted son was quite young and so perhaps Victor wouldn’t be too needy for offspring anytime soon.

And after what happened to him, Yuuri didn’t want to be pregnant ever again.

  
***

  
In the morning, Christophe had brought the carriage around to escort Yuuri to the train station. It will be a lengthy trip, but he brought a book and Victor’s letters along to entertain himself. He wore plain black slacks, a white dress shirt and suit-jacket. Christophe promised to meet him at the station the following evening when he was to return, and the day after that they would be heading west to Independence.

The train left at nine-fifteen that morning. Lara gave him a small basket of food to take a long if he got hungry. The Giacometti’s… they were so kind to him. He had to think of some way to repay them for all they had done for him over the past few months, though he doubted he ever could, fully. They saved his life, after all. They took him in as if he was their son and never treated him differently despite the fact he was ruined and considered to be all sorts of unholy things.

***

  
He didn’t reach Dover until the late afternoon after too many modes of transportation, and he kept his head down, avoiding any eyes in the fear that someone might recognize him. He made sure to keep his neck covered. As he’d lived in Dover his entire life, he knew he was recognized by at least somebody, but he didn’t stop to greet anyone. He was here on business, period.

When he reached the street that he had grown up on, he lifted his head. He knew Mari would be home today, as she often visited on the first Sunday of the month. They weren’t exactly expecting him, but he was sure they wouldn’t mind a visit now that he didn’t look so pregnant. He would’ve been due soon, and he tried to ignore the ache in his heart at the thought. If the baby’s father hadn’t caused the miscarriage, would he be en route to Oregon right now with him, or would he have dumped him elsewhere, leaving Yuuri helpless and alone?

Oh, none of that mattered anymore. The only way Yuuri could cope with what happened was by refusing to acknowledge it. If he pretended he never lost his baby in the first place, he swore he was alright and happy. If only he could forget it so he wouldn’t have to pretend.

Yuuri stopped on the front porch of his parents’ house. He could walk right in, he was born here. But things had changed. He changed. With a sigh, Yuuri knocked three times and waited for the scrutiny he was certain was to come, just moments from now.

Mari’s husband answered the door. A tall, skinny man who had never been in good health that Yuuri was honestly surprised was still alive after how badly sick he was the fall before. “Yuuri, what are you doing here?” He did not look happy to see him. He looked… almost annoyed. Like Yuuri’s presence was some kind of burden. It wasn’t as if Yuuri’s pregnancy caused any burden to Mari’s husband personally, so why…

“I need to speak with my parents.” Yuuri spoke with confidence, though on the inside he felt himself shriveling up. He didn’t know why he ever thought he could find the courage to speak to his parents when he was still so weak inside. They obviously did not want him here now that he ruined their reputation. Why was he wasting their time? They might tell him that they don’t approve of his marriage, but he’ll go anyway. So what was the point?

“Yuuri?” Suddenly, his mother stood there, looking older than he had remembered her to be. She wore nearly an identical expression as the man beside her. “What’s happened? No one’s heard from you in months…”

He had no courage but he forced himself to speak to her. “I lost the baby.” He managed to say without bursting into tears. At least he got that far. He could see that she wanted to offer him sympathy, but something held her back and he hated her for it. “He killed it.” Yuuri’s voice felt tight in his throat. “And now I’m going to Missouri to…”

“Wait… what? What the hell is going on?” Mari spoke up from behind her.

It was going to be a long day.  
  
In the small family parlor, Yuuri told them as quickly as he was able about all that happened since he left; the terrible experience of living in Baltimore with the unfriendly old women, how he was attacked by the bay and his baby was purposefully killed by its father. That Yuuri had no idea where the man in question was, so there was no use chasing after him.

He was hesitant to bring up Victor, but he knew that that’s what his family had brought him in to hear about in the first place. “Victor… is a man who lives in Missouri that placed an ad requesting a wife. I… I wrote back to him, and we’re getting married the first week of April.”

His mother’s mouth hung open, but his father was quick to speak. “And you think this is a good idea, because?”

“The Giacometti’s— the family I’ve been living with— they know him. He’s a good man and I have to get married at sometime, and—”

“And you know who you are technically supposed to be married to. What’s this Victor going to think when he finds out you’re not a virgin, and worse, that you were pregnant with another man’s child?”

Yuuri smiled weakly to himself, “He doesn’t have to know.”

“What’s the point in lying to him when he will find out? Why are you really doing this, Yuuri? You had no mind to marry as of the last time I saw you.” His father crossed his arm, his frown almost as disappointing as the glare in his gaze.

“Well… things are different now.” Yuuri defended his actions with the excuse that it wasn’t safe for him to wander about with a half-bite on his neck and no one to protect him. Then, he brought up the fact that he had been wanting a bit of adventure in his life. Life on the coast had grown boring for him, he said, and he needed a change. Besides, according to Lara Giacometti, a change of scenery would be good for him.

“So that’s it.” Mari said, standing. “You’re going west for good.”

“That’s right. I’m quite certain about this.” He said. “I made a lot of mistakes. I see that now. But there’s nothing for me here anymore after I ruined my reputation. I know it’s best that I go, for your sakes and for my own.”  
  
He slept in his childhood room for the final time that night. It didn’t feel as comfortable as it used to. As secure.

He held Victor’s letters and his picture beside him, trying to convince himself that he was doing the right thing.

***  
_Yuuri,_

_I have written to my parents about you, I hope that’s alright. They have been trying to matchmake over the past eight years or so, to no prevail, so I think they’ll be thrilled to know that I’m actually going to get married. And goodness, every time I mull over the fact that I’m actually getting married, it sends chills through me. In a good way!_  
_I hope you’re enjoying your last few days on the coast. There are no such things as oceans out here, but sometimes fields of corn or wheat blow in the wind on soft summer days, it looks just like the ocean the first time I saw it on Europe’s shores. I don’t know how you can part with it without missing it terribly._

***

But when Yuuri looked out at the ocean early the following morning, he decided he won’t miss it at all.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I somehow ended up writing 10k this week. This took a lot out of me, so I don't know exactly when the next chapter will be up. It's the longest chapter I've ever written and also has the darkest themes. Just note that most of the fic will be nothing like this, but Yuuri's backstory had to be told.
> 
> I worked pretty hard on this. If you managed to read through all ten thousand words, please leave a comment and let me know what you think of this fic so far.
> 
> Next time: In the past, Yuuri goes to Independence to meet and marry his husband-to-be. In the present, a twister rips through the Nebraskan prairie. How will Isabella manage to get Yuuri to safety?
> 
>  
> 
> [Tumblr](https://reddyonice.tumblr.com)
> 
>  


	3. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In 1855, Yuuri Katsuki of Dover married Victor Nikiforov, a controversial 27 hours after meeting him. Why would he marry someone so quickly, without knowing much about him?
> 
> "Spite," is what he told me, but others say differently. 
> 
> Some say it was to ensure his safety, others believe that Yuuri Katsuki of Dover was so smitten by the midwestern tradesman that he couldn't think to wait another day.
> 
> The choice of which source to believe is yours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: there are two anxiety attack descriptions in this chapter, one is a bit more intense than the other.

“What will you do, after the baby is born?” Isabella’s watched Yuuri pace the room for only a few minutes, but she’s already feeling dizzy. She knows he needs to get this labor moving, but still, being that when she first saw him he looked deceased, she has no idea how he has the strength to do this. “There isn’t a thing in this house for a baby.”

“I’ll make do with what I have.” He says, pausing by the window as another contraction— that’s two in six minutes, she notes— overtakes him, and he just about folds in half. She’s quick to be by his side, helping him onto the bed. 

“I don’t see  _ anything  _ here, Yuuri.” She offers him a cool rag as his face is quite flushed from the strain. “I know you never expected after five years to have a child, but you’ve had nine months to prepare, and…”

“Well it wasn’t like I could come up with an excuse as to why I needed to buy a cradle.” He winced, clutching onto his stomach. “Looking back, of  _ course _ I should have told him, but I didn’t, and I have to live with that.”

“I’m sure he’ll be quite surprised to come home and see his family has grown by one.” She says, ablite sarcastically, and suddenly notices the sorrow cross Yuuri’s face. 

“I’d hoped he would come home in time to be present at the birth…”

“You can’t say that without acknowledging that there’s no way for him to have known about this.” Was Isabella really going to lose her temper at a poor omega in a painful labor during a terrible storm? Yes, she is, and she doesn’t care. “And do you know what would have happened if my husband and I hadn’t stopped here? You and that baby would be dead! God knows what might have happened to little Yuri, and you knew this! You  _ knew _ , you had  _ nine months  _ to prepare for this and you let yourself—”

“ _I didn’t know if it would survive! I didn’t know if it was his_! What was I supposed to do?!”  
  
“How could you not know whether or not it was your husband’s?!”

Yuuri clamps his mouth shut, fearing that he had said too much. “There was… evidence… that someone had  _ visited _ me while I was sleeping… the night before Victor came home nine months ago. I know who it was, and I haven’t seen him since, but it makes me nervous that they were both around me so close together.” He looks up at her, shattered to have his son hear this but knowing that he doesn’t have a choice. “If this baby is born with the features of the man that…” He sighs shakily, “then I’ll have to run away. I can’t possibly hurt Victor like this again.”

“Running away is the coward’s way out, Yuuri.” She said in a firm voice, hand on his shoulder. “It wasn’t your fault. And if Victor blames you, yes, you can leave, but you’re not even giving him a chance. Think of your children, Yuuri. It’ll be winter soon, and you’d be out on that cold, muddy road with a newborn and a little boy with no defense. You’re better off here until we can figure this out.”

“I don’t even know what’s best at this point. I just need to have this baby.”

“And I’ll help you with that. But there’s only so much I can do.”

***

Victor sits at some distance from the Nebraskan town he and his family had been struggling to call home for the past two and a half years. He’ll never forget that awful time they’d spent essentially homeless, living in the back of their wagon until reaching this town, when they had to live in the storage room of his store and how hard it was on his family all those months while they built another home.

Their troubles didn’t end after the home finished, either, and the hardest part of it all, for Victor personally, was keeping the body buried deep in the woods a secret. 

Okay, he’s pretty sure that Yuuri would thank him for killing that son of a bitch. But there’s also a chance that he’d never look at him the same way again, and that’s what’s forced him to keep this secret. Still, had it not been for the twister ripping through the fields by the town, he would be home by now and in Yuuri’s arms. 

Well, the twister and his sprained ankle. And his horse that ran away thanks to some lightning.

He’s been sitting in this ditch for almost twenty four hours, thankful he’s had enough supplies to last him but displeased that no one had come looking for him yet. He longed to be home with Yuuri, but it was as if the universe was determined to keep them apart.

The wind dies down significantly within the next several minutes, so Victor crawls up from the ditch to look around at the road. He sees nothing, but is certain he can feel the vibration of hoofbeats against the ground and begs God to have sent him a savior.  _ I want to go home, God,  _ he bows his head against the muddy dirt below him, shivering from being soaking wet since this storm began and having officially run out of clean clothes to change into since the start of his current predicament.  _ I want to be with my family… I want a hot meal and to sleep in my own bed. If you let me go home… I’ll stop doing this for a while. I’ll stay with them and stop leaving so often.  _

_ Just let me go home. _

Giving up his strength, Victor doesn’t move a muscle as the hoofbeats approach him and an unfamiliar voice speaks to him. It isn’t until a gloved hand lifts his head that he opens his eyes. “Are you alright, sir?” This man isn’t from around here; his accent is heavy and unfamiliar. Victor nods weakly. “I’m looking for the owner of that farmhouse out of town a ways. That man’s spouse is quite ill, pregnant and probably in labor. I couldn’t get a name, but the son wrote something about him being out of town. Do you know if—”

“I know where he is, sir.” Victor looks at the town again, wondering why it had been so still as of late, why they hadn’t so much as thought to check on Yuuri… his poor Yuuri… “Wait… did you say  _ pregnant _ ?”

* * *

***

_Then_ ,

Independence, Missouri

March, 1855

 

Yuuri’d never seen such busy girls as the Giacometti’s were on the long trip down to Missouri. He’d gone with them to pick out the fabric he wanted for his wedding gown, but he had no idea that they actually intended on sewing it themselves. He was poked with quite a few needles to make sure they got his measurements right, but still, he couldn’t help but wonder if it’d be done on time. With every day they spent traveling, it meant he was another mile farther away from home and another closer to the day he would actually get  _ married _ . To a man he never met, yes, but married nonetheless.

And to his dismay, something that came along with the sewing and mental preparation was Lara’s unrequested marriage hygiene talks late at night once the girls had gone to sleep. She talked to him about  _ everything _ , despite the obvious fact that he had sex before and wasn’t exactly new at any of this. Still, he appreciated the advice, because while this wasn’t his first time around, it  _ was _ his first time being married, and marriage held all sorts of expectations that being in a secret relationship did not. 

“Marriage is more than a relationship, Yuuri,” She said one night close to their arrival at the nearest station to Independence, “it’s a lifelong partnership, a permanent commitment to love no one but him and stand by him in sickness and health. It won’t be easy, and you’ll argue sometimes. But you’ve just got to hold on and try to work things out. Don’t bend to give him what he wants, make him understand and respect your wishes.”

“What if he doesn’t like me once he finds out about my…”   
  
“Tell him when the time’s right, Yuuri, and he’ll understand. If he doesn’t, there’s nothing you can do to change that. All you can do is hope he’ll stand by you the same way you stand by him.”

That wasn’t at all comforting, but she was right. 

The final day before their arrival was spent primarily in silence. Everyone was tired of the train and fingers sore from sewing so much, so Yuuri took over and tried to finish it himself with the occasional correction from Lara. And once they’d gotten off the train, Yuuri’s nerves started to get the better of him; his hands shook so terribly that he couldn’t sew a moment longer, so he set to focusing on his breathing.  _ Everything changes today, _ he said to himself.

Victor was right about Independence being busy. The streets were filled with travelers who rushed from store to store to find the supplies needed for the six month trip west. Christophe said that they were leaving in two days, and the Giacometti’s will follow. This made Yuuri a bit nervous. He didn’t realize how soon he’d be alone. 

_ Not alone _ , he had to keep telling himself.  _ I’ll be with Victor.  _

As they passed through town, Yuuri looked around and tried to figure out which of the various shops were Victor’s. He never did say what it was called. 

“Christophe, where are we going, exactly?” Yuuri asks from the back of his wagon. 

“Victor’s shop. Edge of town.”

“W-will he be there….?”

“Not for long. I’m sure he’ll want to take you someplace.”

He gulped. 

“And the rest of us are going to finally get some rest.”

“You should change into something more presentable, Yuuri,” Lara said. “His only impression is what he saw in the photo.”

“Well it’s too late now…”

“I’ll pull over.” 

Yuuri’s heart pounded. “I don’t know what to wear!”

“I’ll choose something,” Lara opened his suitcase. “Take off your clothes, no one can see you.”

By the time they stopped in front of Victor’s shop, Yuuri felt like a new man. Clad in a warm, green skirt that he’d bought sometime with the Giacometti’s, and tucked into it was his white frilled shirt made of a light, soft material. The sleeves came down to his wrist and the neckline nonexistent, perfect for hiding his secret. He had it buttoned to its very top, which made him feel a little bit itchy. He didn’t like to dress like this all the time, but Lara said first impressions were vitally important.

“Oh, how do I look?”

“You look fine, but I know you aren’t feeling the same way.” Lara said, giving him another once-over. “Yuuri, do change your shoes before we go. These don’t match.”

“They’re all I brought.”

“Well, keep them hidden.”

“How can you dress like this all the time?”

Lara sighed, smoothing Yuuri’s hair. “Trust me, I’d rather wear nothing but a tunic. And your lips aren’t pink enough, Yuuri, were you eating again?”   
  
“What does lip color matter? He’s a tradesman, not a critic.” Christophe chided the pair, climbing down from the wagon and offering his girls a hand. “Now, you two run along and make yourselves busy until I come and get you. See if you find anything we’ll need. We’ll be along soon.”

“Y-You mean… you’re not staying with me?” Yuuri stammered as he was helped down from the wagon. Alone, with a man he’d never met? A man he’d soon be marrying, whom he had not the slightest idea of his intentions? 

“You’re a grown adult, Yuuri, I think you can manage yourself. We’re not throwing you to the wolves.” Christophe led them to the store front, and Yuuri kept his eyes down the majority of the time (except when he needed to make sure not to stumble, as  _ that _ certainly wouldn’t make a good impression). And just as Christophe opened the door, Yuuri blurted out a random thought in his head. “Does he have all his teeth? What if I have to kiss a husband missing all his front teeth?!”

The silence confirmed the fact that Yuuri really,  _ truly _ had fucked up. Lara and Christophe blocked his view, but he was quick to realize that they weren’t alone in this shop and the man Yuuri had been screeching about seconds ago was probably the one standing in front of them at this very moment. 

“And here I thought I’d told you everything to know about me through letter,” Yuuri heard footsteps coming towards him and wished he could melt into the wooden floorboards below him. “But teeth… I forgot that must be something to take in consideration for my future spouse?”

Yuuri stared down at the polished boots of his husband-to-be, not prepared to meet his eyes while his face flamed so. “I shouldn’t have said such things aloud. Forgive me…”

Mr. Polished Boots gently took Yuuri’s hands in his, raising them to his lips for a kiss. “It was a good question, at least.”

Yuuri swallowed hard, forcing himself to gaze into the eyes of his future husband, and  _ shit _ , they were so much brighter than they were in the photograph. So bright a blue Yuuri just knew he’d find himself distracted by them at one point or another… or always. “I… I’m sure I can come up with plenty more.” 

Victor had a nice smile. And when it stretched across his face, Yuuri noticed a set of perfectly straight, all-accounted for teeth. Well, that was one thing to ease his mind. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Yuuri Katsuki. Ah… did I- am I saying that correctly? Not that your name is as difficult as Victor Nikiforov might sound, but I wouldn’t want to embarrass myself!”

Yuuri smiled weakly, nerves evaporating somehow thanks to Victor’s bubbly personality. Clearly  _ he _ wasn’t nervous about this arrangement at all. “You said it right.”

“My, that’s good, though I don’t know what I’ll do with two Yuri’s in one house. Perhaps I’ll have to give you a pet name. What do you like?”

“I- I don’t know, the typical ones I suppose.” He shrugged, itching the back of his neck uncomfortably at being put on the spot so suddenly. “You can call me whatever you like.”

“Hmm… darling? Dearest? Precious?” All Yuuri could do was chuckle, never really pertaining to what it was that he liked. “Honestly, though, you look most like a  _ honey _ . Don’t you think so, Chris?”

Yuuri’s face fell. He could feel himself numb, happening too quickly for him to take any control of his actions. The next few minutes he spent completely tuning out Victor and Christophe’s conversation, but eventually, he couldn’t take it anymore. His feet moved quicker than his brain, so he couldn’t call an excuse of words back at the three confused individuals in the shop. He fled, far away enough that he wouldn’t be found easily, behind one of the buildings. He slumped onto the ground, sucking in a few shaky breaths. Victor didn’t know. He couldn’t have.

But the second that  _ damn  _ word came out of his mouth, everything that’d happened the winter before came flooding back after all the time Yuuri spent repressing it. All over a word.

He clenched his fists, he took deep breaths, but no matter what he did, there was no stopping the tears that poured over, the bitter grief starting to seep out from deep within him. He came to Independence— a name fitting his intentions, really— to find a new life. To forget what happened. He knew he couldn’t let something so trivial trigger him, ruin his happiness and chances here. Because that’s what  _ he _ wanted.   
  
And  _ he _ was not going to win again. Not ever again. 

_ Wherever you are,  _ Yuuri thought to himself, pushing off the ground once he’d somewhat regained his composure,  _ I hope you’re ready for the disappointment of your life, because I’m not finished here yet. _

***

Yuuri was too much of a chicken, frankly, to go back to Victor and apologize for his behavior. He found his way back to the Giacometti wagon and would not be persuaded to go anywhere but the inn they’d be staying at. He understood that sooner or later he’d have to face Victor again, or this entire trip was a waste. 

But not right now.

He slept off his exhausting breakdown in one of the two stiff beds in their room, but by the time he woke in the late afternoon, Louisa informed him that his betrothed was  _ here _ and wanted to take him to  _ supper _ .

Yuuri tried to tell her no, but the stern look in Lara’s eyes prevented him from doing so. “Tell Victor he will be out in five minutes.”

“Lara, no.” Yuuri whined, sinking himself further under his sheets. “He thinks I’m weird by now, I’m certain.”

“No, he doesn’t. I lied for you and said you forgot to park the wagon and he fell for it, thought it was funny. Then his store got busy and he said he’d be around later. You  _ will _ have to explain to me why you had to make a spectacle of yourself, but that’s for another time. Now, get dressed into what you wore earlier. No sense in changing again.”

Yuuri was beginning to feel as if Lara had become his mother, not his friend, but complaining might end up with another scolding, so he was quick to dress himself again and fix his permanently unruly hair, which had grown back considerably during these months, but…

Anyone who looked hard enough could see how it was growing out unevenly.

“Where’s my hat, Lara?” She passed it to him wordlessly. “Thank you. I won’t do what I did earlier this time. I’m sorry for upsetting you.”

She hugged him loosely, then adjusted his hat for him. “I wasn’t upset. I was worried.”

.

True to his word, Victor was waiting in the hallway. He wore dark slacks, suspenders, and a white dress shirt— much different than his earlier attire, which must mean that his store already closed for the day. “Hello, Yuuri,” He said, cheerful as ever. It was as if he’d forgotten all about the fiasco with their first meeting earlier in the day.

Yuuri shut the door behind him and followed him down the steps to the main entrance. “Where are we going for supper, Victor?”

“I hope you don’t mind that I’m inviting you to dine with me, first of all,” He said, smile creeping up his face when Yuuri held the door for him. “And secondly, I  _ really  _ hope you don’t mind meeting my family so soon. They’ve been begging to meet you at the soonest opportunity, and I thought it might be better to get it over with before the wedding.”

Yuuri bit his lip. “Ah… so that’s where your little Yuri went, then. I was wondering where he is.”

“I wanted the moment to be right. He’s… very shy, to say the least. And when I say he won’t say a word, I mean it. He’s quite defiant about it, too. The only time I’ve ever heard his voice was on the train here when he had a nightmare and cried in his sleep.” Victor continued as they walked in the direction of his store once again. “I’m hoping that the stability he’ll find here might make him feel comfortable enough to talk to us.”

“Perhaps he just needs a chance to get to know you. It  _ is _ hard, you know, living in a stranger’s home after such tragedy…” Yuuri said, as if he didn’t know exactly what he was talking about. “But anyway, I shall do my best to make a home for the both of you, comfortable enough so that he will come to trust me.”

“That’s sweet of you.” Victor motioned to a cart, not a wagon like everyone else seemed to travel in. “It’s lighter, and we’re not going far.” He said as explanation before Yuuri could ask. “But I do have four wagons of different types, on top of this one. In case you prefer wagons.”

“I prefer my own two feet as long as it’s close enough to walk.” Yuuri said, climbing onto the bench in front of the cart before he could be helped. “Why do your parents live so far out of town?”

“They farm. It makes good money, especially when folks are desperate for fresh produce on the trail.” Victor said, urging the dull-maned horses in front of them to start moving. “Oh, this is Petunia.” He said of the horse on the right. “And her sister Bridget.”

“Hmm… those aren’t names I’ve ever heard for horses.” Yuuri rested his hands on his knees and kept his eyes straight ahead, no matter how curious he was to look around town. Because he knew how people were and that they were probably staring. In the back of his mind, he knew that  _ someone  _ else could be here, too, but as it was almost April, he had to hope that  _ he _ went with the first trail of travelers back in March. 

“What do you think of Independence so far?” Victor asked after quite a while of silence, once they were officially out of the town. “I know it can be a little stressful, coming here during the busiest time of year.”

“I’m simply surprised so many people want to go out there. I can’t see why…”

“That’s because you haven’t seen it.” Victor said solemnly. “It’s beautiful, anywhere out there. But everyone’s headed for the same place. I’d stop before Oregon to have actual privacy.”

“My father says it’s dangerous. There are all sorts of wild animals? And illnesses people catch, and…”   
  
“That’s all true. I wouldn’t risk either of your lives for this kind of risk.”

“But if you didn’t have us to worry about, would you?”

“I don’t know. Life was incredibly lonely and boring until now. You know, last year was my fifth consecutive year around the trail. I did nothing else during that time, and in the years before I’d at least have to stop for a sickness or a drought. This has been the most time off I’ve had since I came to this country.”

“Won’t this be your sixth?” Yuuri asked, and in the distance he believed he could see the fence of a property. Butterflies started to attack his stomach.

“You’d think that, but my parents talked sense into me. I’m taking the year off, staying in Independence. I’ll just be running the store. I owe you that, at least. It wouldn’t be fair for me to leave the day after we married only to be gone for weeks at a time.”

He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “That shall be quite nice. Thank you for thinking of me.” A whole year to get to know his husband, a whole year of being  _sure_ that he would be safe because he wouldn't be alone... 

“I just want you to be happy here, Yuuri. And I’ll do whatever it takes to make that happen.” His voice was solemn, but his vow sent a chill through Yuuri. He nodded, squeezing his hands together, but he was unable to speak.

***

Victor’s parents lived in a simple cabin home, like most folks did in this part of the country. It had been expanded in parts, but its design was identical to most other cabins had that Yuuri had seen. There was a barn across the yard, but Yuuri couldn’t see or hear any animals. There was certainly plenty of room for them.

“My parents have two cows and a dozen hens. That’s about it when it comes to animals.” Victor explained once he’d pulled the cart to a halt. “None of us are good animal charmers.”

“You did say you had a dog. Is she…?”

“Oh, yes, she’s here.” He faced the front porch where a sudden brown mass had bolted and jumped into Victor’s arms. It took Yuuri a moment to realize it was a dog and not a demon, for how quickly it had moved!

Victor laughed, greeting the animal, kissing the top of its head. “This is Makkachin!” He laughed, crouching down to hug her properly. Yuuri sat back and watched with admiration. It’d been a long since he had a dog himself, but he loved animals and longed to hug this ball of fluff. 

“Oh, Victor,” A sudden, sharp tone came from the porch, and both looked up to see who was calling him. A middle aged woman, her graying hair tied up into a tight bun atop her head. She wore plain attire like Yuuri’s own mother often did, and a large, white apron. Behind her, Yuuri thought Victor’s son hid, but he couldn’t be sure. “Ruining your Sunday best like this. Your lack of maturity never ceases to amuse me.”

“Sorry, Mother,” He said sheepishly, wiping the knees of his pants as he stood.

Her gaze shifted to Yuuri and considerably softened after that. “You must be Yuuri Katsuki. I apologize on behalf of my son’s often childish behavior. He means well.”

“That I am… and goodness, I don’t mind a man who isn’t afraid to show his emotions.” Yuuri walked up the front steps to shake her hand. “Thank you for inviting me, Mrs. Nikiforov, I greatly appreciate it.”

“I imagine you’ve been on the road for quite some time,” She held the door open for him, allowing him entrance into the house. The boy is nowhere to be seen. “Supper’s just about finished, and Victor can show you where to wash up.”

.

Victor’s father made the table himself. It is of fine wood and polished to shine. Yuuri uncomfortably sat beside Mrs. Nikiforov, but on the opposite side of the table was where his attention truly lied. 

Victor’s adopted son was quite small for his age and rather thin. He had big, green eyes that were currently narrowed at Yuuri, and his gaze would not shift. His hair was bright blond, long enough to reach his chin and not very thick. Yuuri mentally tried to figure out what he could do with his hair without cutting it, which styles would be deemed appropriate for a little boy. In fact, he had so badly tuned out everyone that he didn’t notice his name being called by someone at the table. From that point on, he promised himself to be more attentive of what was going on. 

Victor’s parents asked a lot about where he was from, what he did back in Dover and what possessed him to come here in the first place, to which Yuuri replied: “Spite.”

The evening wasn’t too bad, he decided, but there was something he had to do before leaving, and made his move after Mrs. Nikiforov had cleared the table and went to wash the dishes with Victor. Yuuri stood and walked around the table to where the little boy sat. He knelt beside him at a slight distance so as not to intimidate him. “I don’t think we’ve met properly.”

The boy turned away from him, intense scowl on his face. 

He tried to forget that happened. “Um… Victor told me your birthday was a few weeks ago. That you turned four?”   


No response.

“Well… I don’t know what kind of toys you like, but I know for a fact that every child loves sweets. And I’ve got some with me, just for you. Do you want them?”

And Yuri nodded, but he still refused to look at Yuuri. He set the candy on the table in dismay.

“Don’t take too much offense, I’ve yet to see him so much as smile.” Mr. Nikiforov pushed his chair back from the table and shook Yuuri’s hand. “I’m heading to bed now, I’m old and tired. It was a pleasure to meet you,  Yuuri Katsuki. I hope to see you again soon.”

“Likewise, Mr. Nikiforov,” Yuuri beamed at the approval of his future father-in-law, “thank you for having me. Supper was delicious.”   
“Oh, I take no credit for that.” He said, retiring to the loft for the night. When Yuuri looked back to the table, the boy was gone, but so was the candy. 

.

Victor returned from the kitchen not long after that along with his mother, whose attitude towards him matched her husband, and her enthusiasm for the wedding seemed genuine. “When will you have it?”

“Oh, probably in a few w—”

“The sooner the better.” Yuuri finished before Victor could, marveling at his fiance’s shock. “I mean, there’s no sense in waiting around for what surely will be a content union, right?” 

“I know Pastor Briggs will be busy this weekend, as always,” Mrs. Nikiforov said slowly, “but that Irish priest at that little Catholic mission… I’m sure he wouldn’t mind… you did go and get the marriage application, didn’t you?”

“Of course, Mother, I’m not stupid.” Victor replied, blush quite evident. He turned to Yuuri. “Do you really want to do this so soon?”   
He was of sound mind. “Of course I do.”

***

The ride back to Independence was filled with small talk, but the closer they got to town, the more intense the pit in Yuuri’s stomach became. Knowing he’d be alone in the dark soon, reminded of the  _ last _ time he’d been in that state… 

“Oh, before I forget,” Victor touched Yuuri’s arm to capture his attention. He opened a small box; inside was a jeweled ring. “For the ceremony. Do you like it?”

Yuuri’s breath hitched as he carefully removed the ring from its box and slid it on, pleased to see how well it fit. “Yes… it’s lovely.” He smiled at it, glad that he was receiving this gift from Victor and not someone  _ else _ . “Where’s yours?”

“I left it at home. Would you…”

“Yes, Victor?”

“Like to come with me and see it?”

He knew it wasn’t safe. Wasn’t proper. But for some reason he didn’t want to go back to the Giacometti’s just yet. They probably would enjoy a break from him anyway. “Ah… I guess that would be alright.”

As they entered the town, Victor pointed out things he thought Yuuri should know about Independence. The thing that spiked Yuuri’s interest the most was the book store in the heart of town. “There’s a high school, too, but not much educational opportunity for anyone younger. Not that many go to school around here anyway.  And there’s been talk of teaching kids to read at the bookstore, there,” He points to Yuuri’s right. “Though it’s only a bookstore for those who don’t live here.The rest of the time it’s a library. An old couple run it, they don’t ask for anything in return from the locals. It’s sweet. If only more people knew how to read.”

“I’ve been told I’m a good teacher.” Yuuri said. 

“The owners would love you for it.” Victor added, “Ah, we’re nearly there. An easy way to find it is the mural on the side.”

“Why  _ is _ there a mural on your building, Victor?” 

“Because the name is so bland, I was told that the art might make it more susceptible to business. Do you like it?”

They halt in front of the general store with no special name, but indeed, its early spring garden mural was already causing it to stand out against its neighbors. Yuuri had been so nervous coming here earlier that he didn’t even notice it. Above the front of the store was the balcony of what must be their home, but it was too dark to see inside.Across the street was a stable, nextdoor a saddle shop. And diagonal to them, Yuuri smelt what must’ve been a bakery. It’s cozy, this edge of town. Past their home, there was nothing but empty land currently occupied by wagons with white covers and all sorts of creatures. He could see small campfires flickering in the dim light.

A nearby stagehand came to take Victor’s horses for the time being, and Victor explained that all his animals lived in the stable across the road. Then, they’re alone. 

“I won’t show you inside just yet, it’s not ready for us. I’ve just moved new furniture in from a carpenter down the street and there’s muddy footprints and soot everywhere. But if you’ll kindly wait here, I’ll go get the ring.”

“Alright.”

_ Victor’s so thoughtful,  _ he thought, watching his fiance go through a door on the side of the building.  _ Doing all this for me. New furniture? A golden ring? I mustn’t let him down with the truth when he’s already doing so much for me... _

Within a few minutes, Victor had returned from the building and revealed a ring similar to Yuuri’s, though the jewels are on the inside layer and much smaller. “I think they’re beautiful. Where did you get them from?”

“A friend of mine in Washington. I don’t think there’s many jewlers out here just yet, but I suppose if folks ever do find gold out west we just might have a few.”

“Mm.” Yuuri looked across the way at the bakery once again. 

“Hungry?” Victor guessed. “Come, we’ll get dessert.”

Yuuri pretended he didn’t notice the hesitant arm around his middle as they crossed the street. 

The bakery was about to close for the evening, run by a red haired, boisterous woman who seemed to know Victor well. She served them ice cream but declined payment with a wink, and they sat outside on a bench as the sun finally set. But Yuuri couldn’t eat until he knew... “Have you ever dated her, Victor?”   
  
Victor seemed to nearly choke on his ice cream. He spun to face him, eyes wide “Huh?  _ Yuuri _ , she’s strictly homosexual.”

“Oh… she just seemed to know you so well, I’m sorry.” Yuuri’s face flushed.  _ Why did I say that? _

“Mila and I met on the trail a few years back; she was just a child, then. Her parents died of cholera, I think it was, and I escorted her here to live with the Crispino’s— they own the book shop. And recently, their granddaughter Sara has come from New York to live with them. That’s who Mila likes, but Sara’s grandparents do not approve, and neither does her brother Michele. Personally, I don’t mind that sort of thing at all. If two males that are alpha and omega can be together, I don’t see why two ordinary people of the same sex cannot.”

Yuuri finished the last of his ice cream once it was dark. He listened to Victor talk about the rest of the people he’s sure to meet later on, but he knew he wouldn’t retain any of this. Victor was simply too distracting, with his voice, mostly. It was so calming and smooth, and the way his lips formed every word was simply… 

He’ll never know why, but he cut Victor’s newest rant about Independence short with an attempted kiss on the cheek, but unfortunately, Victor turned his head at that exact moment to ask him a question and Yuuri was met with full lips. 

Once he’d realized what happened he looked away, too embarrassed to apologize. Victor was quiet, too, but he didn’t look upset after Yuuri had pulled back. Still…  “I- I think I’d better get back to the inn, now. They’re probably worried about me.”   


“Do you want me to walk you?” They still hadn’t looked at each other, and Victor seemed to be talking to the wind instead of Yuuri.

“I can manage. I’ll see you tomorrow evening, I suppose…”

“Not tomorrow morning?”

“Maybe, I… well, I don’t know.”

“I understand you might want your space, but… the Giacometti’s never told me whether or not they are staying in this evening, and I couldn’t live with myself if I let you walk back without knowing if you got there safely…”

“Oh alright, I suppose it can’t hurt to have you walk with me.”

But the walk held no eye contact and limited conversation other than questions like: have you gotten the wedding gown yet? Do you want me to buy one for you? Or: my, isn’t it a nice night?

Things that didn’t help Yuuri’s exploding heart and how mortified he felt for accidentally being so bold. Omegas weren’t supposed to be bold. Their husbands or wives, that was their job. To take what they wanted no matter how the omega felt about it.

Yuuri Katsuki of Dover, whore of Kent County and disgrace of his family name, he was bold. Never afraid to tell a man he was interested.

So why was he so shy now? What changed?

The inn was quiet this evening, and even still, Yuuri didn’t want to go inside. If he hadn’t made that stupid mistake, first of all, he could still be sitting by the bakery with Victor and they might’ve talked all evening. 

“I had a nice time this evening, Yuuri.”

“Me too, thanks for inviting me.” Yuuri said in a low voice, but after a moment of silence he forced himself to meet Victor’s gaze. He was staring. Specifically, not at Yuuri’s eyes, but slightly lower. No sooner than a small gasp escaped him than Victor was a fraction of an inch from him, cradling Yuuri’s face in his hands. He didn’t care that it wasn’t proper, he was tired of being alone and would never think of pushing Victor away after this, and… 

Though this contact, this _almost_ kiss was brief, he could feel how much Victor needed to be close to him. If he’d really been up and down the trail practically nonstop for more than five years, it wasn’t likely he had much chance to get close to anyone else. The idea that Victor might actually  _ need _ him was quite appealing, as no one had ever needed him before.

Victor pulled away after a moment, looking a bit guilty for his sudden behavior. "I'll see you tomorrow, Yuuri."

He left him breathless, wanting, and disappointed, as he disappeared down the street towards his home.

***

The Irish priest agreed to do the ceremony for them, though neither were of that religion. Yuuri thought of the similarities between Mari’s wedding and his own in that aspect. Mrs. Nikiforov said she would supply the food, and Lara went to visit her early on the day of the wedding with her daughters to help in any way she could. Christophe went to Victor’s store to help him with the daily crowd (that was thankfully, leaving tomorrow) and Yuuri was left alone.

He finished sewing the quilt that he hadn’t so much as mentioned to Victor, visited the bakery to make sure the cake would be finished on time, and bought a new pair of shoes. 

(Well, at least that’s all he  _ told  _ Lara he bought. The lingerie secretly tucked at the bottom of his bag told a different story.)

That’s not to say he intended on using it his wedding night, though. He was unsure how the evening would go, but based off of the sudden heated moment they’d shared, anything could happen.

On top of his upcoming marriage, Yuuri also thought a lot about his soon-to-be son. There will be plenty of time to get to know him, but he also worried about just how well they’d get along. After all, the two of them would most likely be spending more time with each other than himself and Victor, being how much he worked and the distance that’d soon be between them in just one year. If little Yuri wouldn’t grow to trust him, Yuuri wasn’t sure how things would go in the future. He just had to find a way to make Yuri understand that he was here to be his friend…

.

 

“Is he often late?” Victor asked, checking his pocket watch for the sixth time since arriving at St. Mary’s Catholic Church. Sure, it was only a few blocks away and he didn’t  _ need _ to leave as early as he did, but now Yuuri  _ was _ late. The priest had his hands clasped together and seemed a bit sleepy; he paced back and forth in front of the church’s doors.

“I’ve never known him to be.” Chris said to him, squinting in the late evening sun down the road in hopes that Yuuri would appear there. “Perhaps he’s nervous. I had cold feet before my wedding.”

“I suppose it  _ is _ quite overwhelming, but…  _ he’s  _ the one that wanted to do this quickly, so why…”

Chris mumbled something in his native tongue, but his eyes stayed on the road. Victor’s parents decided to go sit down in the church to get out of the sun. 

Victor himself considered shriveling up into a ball. Or crawling under a rock. Or both. 

And just before he spoke to the priest to apologize and cancel on him, hoofbeats broke their silence. To everyone’s relief, it was the missing half of the wedding party, a full fifteen minutes late. “You go on inside, Victor,” Chris said to him, clasping his shoulder. “You don’t need to see him until it begins. It’s bad luck.”

“Right.” Victor was able to relax after that (and thanks to a little bit of alcohol). He and the priest went inside and Chris was left to deal with his family and Yuuri.

“Sorry we’re late!” Lisa called to him merrily, pulling the reins to stop the horses and their wagon. “We had a dress malfunction, but we’re okay now!” Her sister added. 

“You’re lucky that you married a seamstress, Christophe Giacometti,” Lara climbed down from the back, hauling Yuuri’s suitcase along with her. “Put this with Victor’s things, please.” She said over her shoulder, “Oh  _ do  _ hurry up, Yuuri Katsuki, or you’ll be Yuuri Katsuki for the rest of your life!”

“Oh, I’m coming!” Yuuri whined, “This stupid dress keeps getting caught on everything!”

Muttering many colorful words under her breath, Lara and her husband went to the back of the wagon to help Yuuri down, and Louisa gave him his bouquet. He was practically glowing, and Chris couldn’t so much as catch a trace of anxiety. “I’m just missing one thing,”

“Shit, what is it?”

“I don’t have anyone to walk me.” Yuuri said, clutching the bouquet tightly. “I don’t need one anyway, I guess, but—”

“I’ll walk you.” Chris immediately took his arm. “No more worries. We don’t want anyone thinking you’ve got cold feet.”

“Are you  _ sure _ you want to do this?” Lara stood on his other side, eyeing him carefully. “I won’t let him give you away to this man unless you’re absolutely positive that this is what you want.”

Yuuri didn’t so much as blink. “I want to get married to Victor Nikiforov.”

“Alright then.”

Victor’s impression of Yuuri the day they met was quite high. He found him beautiful, charming, incredibly smart and so much more. But now, looking down the aisle at him walking towards him, he was at a loss for words. 

This had all happened so quickly, as things tended to go out in the Midwest as it was. He wasn’t thinking of going back, but having to remind himself that Yuuri would soon be part of his family… that somehow by chance or strange luck he actually found Yuuri— no, Yuuri found  _ him _ — and now they would get to spend the rest of their lives together… 

Behind a thin veil, Yuuri met his eyes with confidence, reassuring Victor once again that he wanted this. And  _ shit _ , no one had ever wanted him before. 

.

After the ceremony, the wedding party ate their supper in the hall of the church, which made Yuuri thankful that he didn’t have a large wedding. There weren’t many parishioners that come here, but travelers often visited for a confession or one Sunday service, the priest explained.

Plus, Catholicism wasn’t exactly the rage in the country, anyway.

Supper was nice, and Yuuri could tell that the women put a lot of work into it.  He couldn’t eat more than a bite because of the pins in the gown, though, so tight that it felt impossible to so much as breathe. As tempting as the cake looked, he knew that eating meant busting out of this dress. 

It wasn’t  _ his _ fault that he tripped and therefore ripped it, alright? Accidents happen, but there wasn’t enough time to properly fix it before the ceremony. Yuuri was ready to cry with joy by the time things started wrapping up. (He would later regret his behavior at the wedding party and long to do it over again.)

Perhaps if he had a chance to unbutton the gown he could care to say goodbye to everyone, thank them for coming and feel somewhat emotional now that he’s actually _married_.  But Yuuri just held onto his now-husband’s arm, smiled, nodded, did everything except take deep breaths or talk too much, and soon enough, he was led to Victor’s wagon, where Petunia and Bridget patiently waited for them.

Victor waited until everyone else had left to bring up something that’d been bothering him all night. “Yuuri… is that gown too tight for you?”

“ _Yes_ ,” And Yuuri didn’t hide it because the sooner Victor discovered the truth, the sooner he could get  _ out  _ of it. 

“Oh, dear, I should’ve known. You hardly ate but I could see you wanted to. And you did seem a bit strained.” He hid a smile. “I thought it was because you didn’t like me.”

“N-No, that wasn’t it at all!” Yuuri quickly climbed into the back of his wagon, and with limited effort, essentially popped out of the dress. He slid the straps down his shoulders and put on a loose fitting nightgown. He had to take a moment to breathe, gasping for breath and slowly feeling relief after being trapped in that gown for so long that his sides felt numb. 

“Are you alright in there, Yuuri?” Victor stood by the back of the wagon, but did not enter out of respect for Yuuri’s privacy. 

“I’m fine, thank you!” Yuuri walked to the front, looking out at the horses. “Let’s go now!”

.

Yuuri ate his supper on the way, but he was surprised to see that they were not stopping at their new home, but rather, he took a turn far from it and out into the open prairie with no indication of stopping. He followed the Kansas River for more than a few miles, until there was no one in sight and they were completely alone out here under the stars.

And it made Yuuri more than nervous. The last time he’d been in a place when no one else was around,  _ he…  _ “Victor, why are we staying out here?”

He glanced at him, taking a moment to survey their surroundings before stopping the wagon. “If we stayed in town, everyone would be listening in for the moment we consummated our marriage if we stayed at an inn.” Yuuri’s face was  _ burning _ … “The walls are… quite thin. And it can’t hurt to have a little privacy tonight.”

“Oh…” The noise of the trickling river beside them (as it had been quite dry as of recent) did not reassure him, but only made him more nervous, being next to a body of water just made this feel too similar to a night he was trying to remember. 

“That  _ is _ okay with you, isn’t it?"

“Yeah, it’s fine.” Yuuri stayed still, though, focusing on his breathing.  _ It’s not going to happen again, it’s never going to happen again…  _

“I’m going to build a fire, then. It is a little chilly out here.” Victor leaned over, and Yuuri offered him his cheek to kiss. “I’ll be right back.”

.

The moment Victor walked away, everything got worse for Yuuri. He didn’t feel like it was  _ chilly  _ out at all. In fact, his body felt so hot that he considered jumping into the river, but he wasn’t a good swimmer and couldn’t possibly see where he was going. So he resorted to stripping completely naked and staying hidden in the back of the wagon, but that only made things worse… because…

_ This is just how things were when he killed my baby…  _

The view of water, the lack of clothing and being all alone save for a horse… the realization of the similarities in the situations finally threw Yuuri over the edge, and he burst into tears.

The only thing that was different from then was that his baby was dead. More than a thousand miles away. He’d never see his own child again… he left him, he couldn’t save him… 

It was as if he could feel every punch he’d endured that night, every last blow was being inflicted on him once more despite no one being there. He could hardly fill his lungs with air at all, and the dizziness overtook him so suddenly that he could do nothing more than lie on the floor of the wagon, sobbing his very heart out.

At the moment, he didn’t care how exposed he was or if Victor might not like him now that he discovered how emotional he was. He was certain that if Victor took him out here to kill him that he might thank him for it.

Victor had been stacking firewood at that moment, but he froze in his tracks upon hearing the unusual noise inside the wagon. It turned his heart to ice.  _ Surely, he doesn’t want to be married. _

_ Why didn’t he tell me if he didn’t want to be married? I never would’ve forced him into this…  _

He set down the wood and walked to the wagon, pausing to listen. Yes, he definitely was still crying, and  _ goodness _ , he sounded heartbroken. “Yuuri, I’m coming in.”

Yuuri’s crying did not cease, not even long enough to respond. 

Victor hurried to Yuuri’s side, shining his lantern above him. “What is it, love? What’s happened to you?” There was no answer, of course, so Victor set his lantern down and helped Yuuri sit up. He wrapped him in the quilt that Yuuri sewed himself and pulled him into his arms. “Yuuri, please tell me… are you okay?”

“I don’t want to camp here!” Yuuri managed between sobs, breaths quick and forced… “P-Please… I don’t care if s-someone hears us… I  _ can’t  _ be here!”

“Alright, we’ll leave right away, Yuuri, I promise you…” Concern heightening, Victor catches sight of the space where Yuuri’s neck was most sensitive, and the mark there. For now, though, he pretended that he didn’t notice it at all. “Now, lie down on this mattress here,” He coaxed Yuuri into doing so, covering him with the quilt and another throw that he’d packed. “I’ll steer us back home, don’t you worry.”

_ What did I do to frighten him so? _

.

He wanted to stay with Yuuri in the back of the wagon, but he couldn’t. His presence probably would not calm him down if his surroundings were what frightened him. So he steered them back to the general store and left his belongings to be tended to by the stagehand. He lifted Yuuri like an infant, swaddled in the quilt, and carried him above the store; and another flight of stairs after that. Yuuri had his eyes shut, but the smell of the home comforted him as it was clean and finally a break from the constant odor of the outdoors that he’d been living with for several weeks. “There are two bedrooms,” Victor explained in a hallway of sorts. “Would you like your own room for tonight, or is it alright if we…”

“Stay, please,” He whispered, clutching onto Victor like his life depended on it. “I can’t imagine spending my wedding night with anyone else.”

So Victor set Yuuri on a mattress and— after undressing from his formal wear— joined him at his side. He welcomed Yuuri into his arms as he could see he was still quite tense from what happened at the river (whatever that may have been). 

He was unsure of the best method to calm Yuuri's nerves, but soon set to gently stroking Yuuri's hair, humming softly to himself. Every few strokes, his hand might accidentally touch the half-mark, but he decided to put that question aside until Yuuri was ready to talk about it. He didn't have to know everything about Yuuri on their wedding night...

Though his wedding night ended there, because Yuuri was soon asleep and his new husband was left to watch him in silence until he too nodded off. Some men might ask Victor, years down the line, how he resisted the urge to claim what was his and just how was he alright with simply sleeping next to his spouse on their wedding night?  _It's simple_ , Victor might tell them,  _I wanted a relationship built on trust._

.

Yuuri woke beside his husband the following morning, met by two bright blue, blinking eyes. Relieved to see that he was feeling better, Victor sealed the gap between them and peppered Yuuri with soft kisses, greatly lifting the mood they’d been in the night before. Yuuri felt better now that he’d gotten rest; he didn’t sleep at all the night before the wedding.

He welcomed Victor’s kisses, but at the same time, he wished he’d stop so he could have a chance to look around his new bedroom. From where he lay, he could see a wide window shining in the morning’s light to the side of them, a large, wooden dresser, and… 

“Victor…” He whined softly as he felt his husband’s hand slip between his thighs, never breaking eye contact as if to see if this was alright to him.

“Yes, Yuuri?”

“Before we… I should tell you why I’m… why…” His courage was rapidly faltering, but Victor was already looking at his neck, at the half-bite that had ruined him. “I didn’t intend on you seeing this, so I apologize for that. And for my behavior last night.”

“Did your… behavior… have something to do with this?” He gently traced his thumb over the mark. 

“Yes…”

“You can tell me anything, Yuuri. If you were married before, if this was from a past relationship, that’s  _ fine _ with me. That’s all in the past now, so—”

“I didn’t consent to it happening, Victor. I was attacked by a body of water and left for dead by a man I didn’t even know. And that’s why the Giacometti’s took me in.” Yes, it wasn’t completely true, but telling the truth meant Victor discovering more than Yuuri was willing to be open about. Before Victor could offer sympathy, Yuuri added, “I’m alright now, there are just some scenarios that can upset me, like last night. I was so very tired and hungry and then I was left alone in an unfamiliar place in the dark, so I couldn’t help but feel—”

“Of  _ course _ , I’m so sorry!” His husband cried, wrapping his arms around Yuuri tightly, as if to protect him from the man in question. “I was so inconsiderate, Yuuri, please forgive me. I must do better in the future to ensure your safety.”

“You’ve already done more than I could’ve hoped for,” Yuuri hesitantly hugged him back, “and you’re a good, kind man, Victor. I trust that you won’t hurt me. But there are things about me that can be hard to understand… sometimes I push people away when I’m upset, and I’m afraid I might offend or even hurt  _ you _ .”

“You don’t have to worry about all that.” Victor rubbed circles into his back. “Everything’s going to be alright now, Yuuri. You’re safe here and you’ll always be.”

It’d been a long time since anyone promised Yuuri such a thing and meant it. Though he hardly knew Victor beyond the letters he sent, he felt like in time, he could learn to trust him and maybe,  _ maybe _ , eventually come to love him and be loved in return. 

“Will you tell me… what do you want me to be to you?” He cupped Yuuri’s cheek, brushing away a tear that Yuuri didn’t even know had fallen. Upon noticing Yuuri’s confusion, he added, “To make you the happiest? Shall we just be friends, do you want me to—“

“I just want you to be yourself, Victor.”  _ So I can trust you… so I can be sure that coming here wasn’t a mistake. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I vowed to make this chapter shorter, I really did, and here we are at 9k. Thanks for all the support so far! Feedback keeps this thing running. 
> 
> Next time: A series of firsts in the first Nikiforov home, over their first year together.
> 
> //also I love all your comments! If you ever have any questions that might be considered spoilers, you can talk to me on tumblr instead! I love friends.


	4. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Detailing Yuuri Katsuki's first full year in the midwest. Filled with many firsts, tears, and some joys too, but by the end of the twelve-month-period, he still finds himself worried that Victor and him will inevitably separate due to Yuuri's terrible habit of keeping secrets.

I won’t beat around the bush on this one. The expression on Victor Nikiforov’s face upon entering the loft of his home is nothing short of pure shock.

Only recently had they started talking about having children. It was never set in stone, just something casually mentioned at night or at the table when their son wasn’t present and Victor had always said it was probably too risky for Yuuri, anyway, knowing about his miscarriage several years ago. But they were still young; Yuuri being almost twenty six and himself thirty-three— and both agreed that _maybe someday_ they’d go ahead and start trying.

As far as he knows, they never actively started _trying._

Yuuri was very careful when it came to intercourse and always knew when his cycle was coming and when he was most likely to be fertile. It wasn’t like him to _not_ know, so the first thought that crossed Victor’s mind when he stood in the loft is _how. How did this happen_?

January was nine months ago and they’d only gotten intimate enough to theoretically make a baby _once_ that month, the morning after Victor took out the trash known as the man who’d been plaguing Yuuri’s life for the past five years or so and put him six feet under. But still, how could that one time beat out the others like that? And why wouldn’t Yuuri have told him? He was home until April, and Yuuri must have known by then. Why on earth wouldn’t he tell him about it? Was he afraid of something?

Right now, he wants to feel happy that he’s becoming a father again, (and a biological one for the first time) but under the faux mask of joy he wears, there is _anger_ burning up from the pit of his stomach into his chest. Victor’s not a hothead and seldom lets his unpleasant emotions through. But right now? He feels robbed.

He missed out on the entire pregnancy— probably their only child’s pregnancy, too— and that is time he’s never getting back. This had been something he’d longed to share with Yuuri, and now it just wasn’t going to be the same. He missed the chance to feel his own child move within Yuuri.

Yuuri is close to delivery, and Victor realizes that if he had shown up a moment later, he would’ve been too late to witness what was going on. As always, he decides to put off his questions until the current situation is over. Even though it is tempting to grab Yuuri by the shoulders and scream _what is going on?!_ , he knows that would be of no use in his current state. Yuuri always tells him everything once he works up the courage to; be it that day or  _two years down the road like that one time when—_

So he limps to the bedside and takes his spouse’s hand, allowing Yuuri to embrace him because he knows he was missed and couldn’t imagine the stress Yuuri has been under all these weeks that he was away, wondering if Victor would come back in time and what to say to him…

Yuuri is shaking, he clings onto Victor and rambles briefly about how much he missed him, that he was sorry—

“There’s time for talk later. I think we’ve got something else to worry about, don’t we?” Victor kisses his forehead, “I’m here now. Everything will be alright.”

Yuuri agrees, of course, that there will be a better time for all this discussion later. He is seized in pain once more, and Victor winces at how tightly his hand is squeezed. He eyes his son on the other side of the room and soon sends him out, realizing that this isn't something a nine-year-old should have to witness. 

“How is he doing?” Victor asks the unfamiliar woman, who seems to progressively get paler with each passing minute.

“Well he… he’s doing fine. I think.” Isabella says, though she really has no idea as she’s never stared down a bare omega’s… birthing region, or anyone else’s for that matter. If Yuuri is about to deliver this baby completely successfully, she knows not. If he’s about to _die_ of childbirth, his life is in her hands. But she doesn’t know what to do.

“You’re new at this, too?” Victor guesses, letting go of Yuuri’s hand to stand in front of her.

“That I am, and...  sir…?” She flits her eyes down as she has always been quite shy around strangers.

“Please, call me Victor.” He extends a hand. When she shakes it, she expects her hand to be crushed, but Victor shakes her hand quite gently.

“Victor, then… can you help me over here? I think Yuuri’s nearly ready to push.”

“I didn’t say that!” Yuuri interjects, clenching his teeth together. “I _am_ , but I didn’t _say_ that!”

“Well, it’s not that hard to tell. Victor, please get another towel. I’m going to need you to catch the baby, because I’ve no idea how and _you’re_ the father, after all, so…”

Victor misses the look exchanged between Isabella and Yuuri.

“Victor, I’m not sure I can do this.” Yuuri reaches for him the moment the additional towel is brought in, but Victor does not comply and stays back from him. “I’m not ready.”

“Do you think _I_ am?” He let a bit of his repressed attitude slip through, arms crossed.

Yuuri’s expression saddened. “Victor, I know I should have told you. You deserved to know, but—”  
  
“I told you we'd discuss this later." He snaps.

Yuuri's eyes are already clogged with tears again upon Victor's tone of voice, and Isabella takes the hint that Yuuri is quite sensitive. It isn't unheard of for men to have glass hearts, but she knows what an inconvenience it can be. (Being that she is married to a man with one.) “But what if I die? Victor, plenty of people die of childbirth, and I… I could be one of them!”

“Yuuri,” Victor chides, “think of the baby.”

He nods. “Right… the baby… our…”

“Our baby.” Isabella doesn’t miss the way both parents seem to almost shudder. But Victor turns his attention back to Isabella and helping her with whatever she needs while Yuuri suffers alone.

No longer than a minute later does the slightly anxious, but mostly calm aura completely turn completely upside down. Isabella and Victor were waiting for Yuuri to start to push, both by his feet, when Yuuri suddenly shouts: “Oh, just stop! _I can’t do this_!”

Neither can get a word out at first; Yuuri is hysterical, his breathing is rapid and face bright red. His shaking hands cover his tear stained cheeks, and he mutters something in a language Isabella doesn’t understand before sobbing. She’s just taking a guess that it is not a sob of pain. “Of course you can, Yuuri, plenty of people—”

Victor lifts a hand to signal her to stop. He understands what Yuuri— what any person who has been through what he has— is going through. He’s worried about losing this baby the same way he lost his first. But this situation is different, he has to understand that. The child won’t be born too early and despite his sickness, _should_ be born in decent health. Yuuri rationally knows that. He’s just afraid. Remembering. Those memories are the only thing that Victor cannot tap into to understand how he is feeling; he wasn’t there. But, he is here now. And he’s determined that today will be different than that day back in November, almost six years ago.

He won’t be able to catch their baby. He has to be here for Yuuri first. “I’m here, love,” He whispers, not so much as grimacing when Yuuri grips his hand much tighter than he thought possible. “We’ll get through this, together.”

There isn’t time to protest, so Yuuri gives him a weak nod as he struggles to calm himself down. It’s too late for that, though, for about three minutes later, their child is born. September the twenty-first, in the year 1860, Victor Nikiforov’s life changed once again.

* * *

_Then_

1855-1856

Independence, Missouri

 

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Victor turned onto his side and was surprised at the realization that Yuuri had gotten up earlier than he did. Yes, they hadn’t been married long, but he already understood that Yuuri liked to sleep in as he often stayed up late into the night for some reason or another. He'd grown used to waking to Yuuri's perfect sleeping face and thanking God that he'd gotten so lucky.

But looking at the calendar by the bed with today’s date circled, he slowly began to recall the reason why Yuuri was up. Laundry day.

Most families only washed their clothes a few times a _year_ at most, but Yuuri told him that he wasn’t going to run things that way. “As long as the sun’s out, we won’t be walking around in dusty clothes. And… you sweat a lot.”

Well, Victor didn’t _normally_ sweat so much, but Yuuri was just so… so…

They had been married for just over a month now, and things, in Victor’s opinion, were progressively getting better with each day that passed. He really felt like Yuuri was warming up to him. He wasn’t worried about intimacy yet. His main concern was getting Yuuri to trust him.

.

The morning after their wedding Victor gave him a tour of the house and its grounds, in hopes that it’d make Yuuri more comfortable with being here. Their bedroom was just above the kitchen and tragically held the only fireplace in the house. Yuuri always liked a fireplace in his parlor, but that was a dream for another day. Victor promised that perhaps someday they would install a second. There was also a small dining room that held a table and four chairs. From there, they reached the parlor— the new furniture really _was_ quite lovely, and Yuuri adored the intricately patterned carpet on the floor. There wasn’t much to do, entertainment-wise, in the parlor, besides a small lapharp and chess table. Yuuri said he did not know how to play chess. Off the parlor, there was a small door that led to a junctioned staircase, which is where the bedrooms were if you went up, and the store if you went down. Besides the balcony out front, that was about it for their home.  

Oh, and an outhouse that was off the back of the stock-room downstairs, but that isn’t something we really need to talk about.

He showed him from where to draw water, where the shed for the wagons was behind the store and what he could take from the stock room without paying for.

“When you want to take something, you must mark it down on this list.” Victor held a clipboard that was carrying a stack of papers on it. “Do you see anything you might want or need, right now?” Yuuri chose a chamberpot and some scented soaps, because he decided that he wouldn’t come down to the outhouse in the middle of the night.

Because Victor liked to spoil, he went across the street to the bakery and bought pastries for breakfast so that no one had to cook anything. 

Yuuri had yet to change out of his nightgown by ten o’clock that morning, and after the late breakfast he went back to sleep for about an hour and a half.

During that time, Victor decided to go and retrieve his adopted son from his parents’ house.

They were full of questions, naturally, because he wasn’t to pick up the boy until that evening and they figured he might be delayed by the rain shower that’d started at around nine that morning. But the truth was that Victor needed to get out of the house, clear his head, and figure out how to best form a relationship with his new husband. 

His new husband who had _clearly_ been through at least one terribly traumatic event in his recent life.

Why, if he knew the details on the bastard that did this to him, he would hunt him down and make him pay for it. Victor knew he’d find out more information in time, and when he did he might have a better chance of actually finding who did this.

“Things are going great,” he said to them shortly before leaving. “I’ll make sure to visit soon.”

.

But getting back to that morning, Victor went down the hall and found that Yuri, too, was already up and out of bed, another surprise. Yuri would sleep until noon if allowed, though that seldom was ever to happen so long as Victor was alive. 

Since Yuuri had acted so strangely when Victor started listing pet-names the day they met, he decided not to give him one. Instead, he began referring to his adopted son as Yura, and whether or not he minded that was unclear as he seemed to hate Victor regardless of what he did. So far, though, _Yura_ didn’t seem to mind being around Yuuri. Though his typical glare was almost always present, Victor could see how Yura tried following him around without making it obvious, how, despite rolling his eyes, he always listened to Yuuri and was always quite attentive should Yuuri start to read him a story at bedtime.

They had gone into a routine that was quite easy to follow as of late. Victor opened the store at nine. He might argue with Yuuri about breakfast (because _honestly_ Yuuri wasn’t the _best_ cook when it came to breakfast) but that was their only form of conflict. Sometimes he helped Yuuri fill the tin bathtub but seldom washed during the day, preferring to take his baths in the evening.

After that, he went downstairs. Business was never completely slow, but he _was_ a bit bored and always thankful when Yuuri came down to see him on his way to run some errand with Yura, that he longed to be part of. He always brought him lunch and the three of them ate together. At first, Yuuri spent much more time downstairs than he did now, because he liked watching Victor work and helping whenever he could. Yuuri enjoyed working; his parents always refused to so much as let him help his father in his shop and he liked having something to do. This ended not long after because both grew tired of flirtatious men, young and old, asking Victor “is the pretty doll for sale?” and other such things. For a few days, he’d chuckle and respond kindly that his Yuuri wasn’t for sale, and Yuuri would blush and duck his head, but after the fifteenth time being asked he had to snap and Yuuri decided to stay upstairs until the season was over.

According to Yuuri, during the day he tried following every pioneer family’s weekly schedule: wash on Monday, iron on Tuesday, cleaning on Wednesday, market on Thursday, churn on Friday, bake on Saturday, and go to church on Sunday, but it was _hard_ to follow such a schedule at times. He completely abandoned the idea of churning as they didn't have a cow, he’d yet to wash anything, and church wasn’t exactly his thing. If he could choose to do none of those things, he would. And he’d spend that time reading or learning chess or practicing his simply _terrible_ sewing skills. Soon, though, he vowed to teach Yura to read. He must’ve been so bored at times as he hardly had anything to play with and talking to Yuuri did not seem to be an option.

Yura returned to his seat at the table, finishing the last of his breakfast, and Victor had to wonder just how _early_ the two of them had gotten up. “Good morning, Yura,” He said, sitting beside him at the small wooden table. There wasn’t much left to eat, but he served himself. “What are you doing up so early?” 

“Well, I wanted to get an early start. Yura and I are going to do the washing today.” Yuuri came up from behind him, offering Victor a glass of water. “While we’re gone, can you fill the tub?”

“You don’t want me to come with you?”

“Not really, no.” Before he could protest, Yuuri added, “Because you’ve got to work at the store in two hours and I wasn’t expecting you to get up yet.”

“I can open late, honestly,” He said in defense.

“And disappoint the next wave of travelers? You saw that they’re already trickling back in for the last wave. I don’t see why anyone would think to leave in May, but that’s not exactly my business anyway.”

“Some don’t go all the way to Oregon.” Victor said to him, finishing his glass of water but ignoring the leftovers he had taken for himself. He’d just eat after they left.  “And at least let me help you carry something or hitch the cart, or—”

“Victor.” Yuuri held a finger to his lips. “I can do this myself. Don’t worry about it.”

“Oh come on, I use more laundry than anyone in this house, it’s only fair that I-”

“We’ll be back before lunch, I suppose.” Yuuri smiled sweetly. “Come on, Yura.”

“I don’t get a goodbye?”

Apparently, he did not.

.

Yura waited by the cart, watching Yuuri struggle to haul three bags of laundry behind him. He would offer to help, but it’s not like he really could do much anyway. He was sure that Victor was watching from a window somewhere in disappointment. 

Yuuri, despite his struggle, was able to lift each bag onto the cart. Yura followed him into the stable across from Victor’s store, which was busy and made the boy quite nervous. He hid behind Yuuri’s pantleg until they reached a familiar stablehand. “Mr. Chulanont.” 

The man in question was busy shoveling horse shit and looked up at Yuuri with a glare the moment his name was called. “ _What_?”

Yuuri looked taken aback. “I… well I’m sorry to bother you, knowing how busy things are around here, and I wouldn’t ask if I—”

“Just spit it out already, goddamn…” He wiped his hands with a kerchief and set his shovel aside, shutting the stall behind him. “What do you need help with?” Mr. Chulanont poorly executed a kind tone.

“The horses.” Yuuri seemed to stiffen up once the stangehand stood close to him, but Yura didn’t understand why.

“That’s all?” He scoffed, pointing down the row. “You can take them yourself, any time. I’m not going to saddle them for you and all that. They’re Mr. Nikiforov’s horses and his responsibility.”

“That’s perfectly fine, Mr. Chulanont, but I _don’t know where they are_.”

“Enough with the ‘Mr. Chulanont’ business, okay? Just call me Phichit.” He took Yuuri’s arm and led him to stalls number nineteen and twenty. “We do not boast the largest stable in Independence, but of course his horses had to have two stalls, though. Do you need anything else?”

Yura debated kicking his shin.

“No, thank you.” Yuuri forced himself to smile until Phichit was out of sight, but Yura could sense that he was upset, and that infuriated him. “I think we’ll only need one horse today. Which one do you like better, Petunia or Bridget?”

He pointed to Petunia.

“Me too.”

.

Yuuri had been to the river twice since the night of his wedding, once with Victor and once alone, and he wasn’t afraid anymore. Not that he ever rationally _was_ , but he made sure to avoid being there after dark or when there weren’t any others around. And today, there weren’t many at this spot of the river to his luck. He still made sure to keep a distance, regardless. He poured the first round of clothing into a filled tin tub that he’d found in the storage unit.

He left the clothes to soak in the soap that he, again, had also taken, and sat with Yura by the water and watched him skip rocks. “You should let me pull your hair up so you can see better.” Yuuri chided, frowning when Yura swatted his hands away. “Or I could cut it all off.” He received an elbow to the gut, and Yura was sent to sit in the cart after that.

It was unfortunate that his adopted son seemed to be so grumpy all the time. There were other small children here around his age that he could have gone and played with while Yuuri did the washing. Instead he was left to sulk as he almost always did for most of the morning.

Using the washboard wasn’t as easy as Yuuri’s family servant made it seem like. He was on his third pair of trousers and his knuckles were already sore and fingers prunish. By the time the first bag was set out to dry, his hands trembled from the cold water and Yura was laying on the ground in defeat. Yuuri was _tired_. “How do people _do_ this?” He groaned, sitting back to abandon his washing for a moment.  _If it wasn't so damn hot out today..._

“Practice.” Comes a voice from beside him, and Yuuri was not too pleased to see that it was a stranger. He gave him a shy look and then averted a pair of piercing, gray eyes. “My name is Altin. Michael Altin. My husband and I are going west to Salt Lake City, and well… I’m doing the last of the washing because _he_ decided that he’s better at doing the shopping and I couldn’t help but notice you were all alone, so…”

Yuuri kept his eyes down, turning back to the washing despite the pain in his joints. "I'm fine."  _Why is everyone so friendly out here?_

“You shouldn’t scrub so hard, ease the pressure you’re putting on yourself. You know, most people take all day to do the washing, so there’s no need to rush. It’s a _social event_.”

“I don’t know anyone here.” He said quietly.

“That’s because you’re sitting over here all by yourself, Yuuri Katsuki.”

“H-How do you know my—”

“We visited your husband’s general store on Saturday and he simply went on and on about you. You came downstairs to offer him lunch and that’s how I recognized you.”

“I get _that_ but… that’s not my last name, so how…”

“Oh, really? Hmm… now where did I hear Yuuri Katsuki? I can’t remember. It must’ve been someone talking about another Yuuri to me back home. I’m from Baltimore.”

“Must’ve been.” Yuuri tried scrubbing the way that this Michael fellow recommended, and he supposed it was a little better. The good thing about being here under a new name was that he could hide his roots. But why on earth would the woman he stayed with in Baltimore feel the need to blab his personal information to random strangers like that? How humiliating…

“Is that your son?” He nodded towards Yura, who was now ripping pieces of grass out of the ground and piling them up along with sticks and rocks as if he was building a fire.

“That would be him.”

“Would you mind if I did my washing here, too?”

“I don’t see why not.” Yuuri shrugged. The silence between them was too awkward, though, so he forced himself to talk to him. “Do you have any children?”

“Just a son, Otabek. He’s four. What about your—”

“He’s four, too.”

“Aww, that’s nice. It’s a shame they can’t be friends. I really hate to go west now. I don’t know anyone out there.” Michael sighed stopping his own washing to watch Yuuri. “Did you ever feel that way? Would you rather go back to where you’re from?”

“There’s nothing for me where I’m from.” Yuuri said. “I came here because I wanted a new start.”

“I’m only here because my husband wants to be.” Michael frowned. “He is certain that there’s a better life for us out west. But I miss luxury already and we haven’t even left yet.”

“I suppose there’s no going back.”

“Not likely. I just worry for our little boy. How he’ll do out here.”

“I’ll pray for you and him both, then.”

.

That evening, Yuuri sat on the balcony above the store with his husband and watched the last of the caravan disappear into the distance. He hoped that, if _he_ was really among them, that _he_ would die of cholera before reaching Salt Lake— if that's where _he_ was headed— and rot in the ground. But most importantly, he hoped that Michael Altin (who most definitely thought that Yuuri was weird by now) wouldn't spread rumor about Yuuri’s whereabouts to _him_. There was not a rifle above Victor’s door. He had no real protection here until that man was dead.  

“You look like you’ve got a lot on your mind,” Victor passed him the bottle of wine that they’d been sharing this evening. It was almost empty. “Care to share?”

“I was just thinking about… about all those people out there.” Yuuri took a lengthy sip of the wine, till it was all but gone. It was getting a little cold out now that the sun was gone, and Yuuri found himself shivering in his robe (the sheer nightgown underneath was of no help). “How many of them will actually _see_ Salt Lake?”

Victor was thoughtful. When Yuuri looked in his eyes, it was almost as if he was looking into Victor’s life on the trail, those five years. He could tell that some memories out there were pleasant, and there were some factors that would be missed. But the rest seemed… dire. “It depends on how well they manage their time. Most leave in April because the rivers have usually thawed by then and will be easier to cross. Those who leave in March have the advantage of reaching Oregon before winter, but they risk starvation and freezing to death. There have been many instances of river-crossings gone wrong. Wagons and people plunging into the icy depths, but it’s not the fall that kills them, it’s the sicknesses afterwards if they manage not to get swept away under the ice and drown…”

“That’s terrible. Have you seen—”

“I’m just a tradesman, Yuuri. I don’t get attached to anyone and I definitely don’t cross icy rivers. But yes, yes I’ve seen people drown. I’ve seen families die off. I’ve seen a lot.” He instinctively reached for the wine bottle and was dismayed to find it empty. “I’ll get more from downstairs—”

“No, it’s alright, I’ll go get it.” Yuuri pushed him back into his chair with a soft smile. “Red wine or… vodka?”

“Vodka. If there was something stronger, I’d ask.”

“Victor Nikiforov…”

Yuuri returned with a bottle of vodka nevertheless, but instead of sitting in the chair beside his husband, he decided to seat himself directly in Victor’s lap, facing him instead of the view of the sunset. He pressed the top in between his lips and— disregarding Victor’s warning— took a mouthful.

Gasping at the sudden, sour (in his opinion) taste, his reflexes got the better of him and he spit out the vodka. On Victor.

He had been embarrassed plenty of times before, but this time took the cake. Vodka dribbled down Victor’s neck and shirt, though it luckily had avoided his face. “Too strong?” He guessed, peeling off Yuuri’s robe to dry himself. “I tried to warn you, Yuuri. It's not for everyone." 

Yuuri covered his eyes, simply mortified. “Forgive me, please… I’m _so sorry_ , let me go get a—”

“It’s alright Yuuri,” Victor reassured, chuckling at Yuuri’s behavior. “I think I’ll keep the rest of the vodka to myself, though.” He set the bottle aside, along with Yuuri’s damp robe. “Shall we go to our room, though? You must be cold.”

“I think I’ll sleep right here in my own shame.” Yuuri hugged himself, though he did not unwrap himself from around Victor. “I really am sorry that I spilled on you, obviously I wasn’t meaning to, a-and I’ll go wash your shirt first thing in the morning.”

Victor lifted Yuuri into their house, up the stairs, and set him on the bed, but the apologies simply kept coming and they were… well, they weren’t exactly _annoying_ , but it bothered him that Yuuri felt the need to apologize so much over a simple mistake.

Yuuri crawled under the blanket after a few moments of nothing but silence from Victor during his apologies, and he squeezed his eyes shut, face hot. 

Victor undressed, folding his clothes neatly on the side table and climbed into bed beside him as calmly as he could. How _else_ could he prove that he wasn’t mad? He took a few sips from the vodka bottle, contemplating the situation.

“Today, Victor,” Yuuri spoke after he calmed himself down, “there was a man who said you’d spoken of me and he somehow pieced together my real name because of someone _else_ who had mentioned me. Someone who might have told _another_ person where I am, and—”

“Well, I like talking about you, Yuuri. I’m proud to.”

“And I appreciate that, but…” He took a deep breath. “The man who… who attacked me… he was on his way west.” 

The silence in the air was sharp. “Then why would you come here, too?”

“It doesn’t matter. It _didn’t_ matter where I was. I was— I _am_ going to be in danger no matter where I go.”

He could hear the crack in Yuuri’s voice and it hurt his heart. He set the bottle aside and hesitantly ran his hand down Yuuri’s back. “I thought I told you that’s not true.”

Yuuri took a deep breath. “The _point_ is, I’d like you to refrain from bringing up my name from now on, if possible. It’s not a necessity as it is, merely a conversation piece and you had things to talk about before, so—”

“You’re my husband, of course I’m going to want to talk about you.”

“I can’t help but notice how little there is to say about me. And I don’t want to argue about this, Victor. If you’ll please let me alone, I’d like to get some sleep.”

“It’s still early.” The hand on Yuuri’s side sunk a bit lower. “And besides, I know how late you stay up. You only tell me that you’re going to sleep when you want me to leave you alone." 

“I’m glad you get the point.” Yuuri said.

“You know, I find it interesting, Yuuri…” the hand on his back disappeared, “that we haven’t gotten intimate yet. Funny thing is, you seemed like that was the path you were attempting to go down— before you spilled vodka on me. So tell me, what might have happened if you didn’t do that?” 

Yuuri was already picturing what _might_ have happened and only wished it _did_. He declined to answer, pinching his lips together. The image of Victor inside of him, deep enough to fill him and—

 That image is always taken over by the thought of Victor suspecting for even a second that he wasn’t a virgin and _what might he think will I have to tell him about my son will he—_  

That’s why he’d been avoiding this contact, though he knew how pathetic it was to do so. He was told, by Lara and countless others, that it could be difficult to keep a husband’s attention and constantly rejecting them might mean him seeking love elsewhere.

This was the first year that Victor stayed off the trail. He was probably bored out of his mind. Yuuri was making it worse. When would Victor figure out that Yuuri wasn’t worth his time?

“Maybe some other time.” Yuuri whispered.

But speaking of Lara… he wished he knew where exactly she was on the trail, if she had made it to Nebraska yet. Because he wanted to write to her, to ask her things and vent about all that was going on. So far, he’d only written his sister twice, but knew he couldn’t expect an answer very quickly considering their distance and his sister’s forgetful tendencies. Still, he truly longed for someone to talk to besides Victor, because he can’t talk _about_ Victor _to_ him, it just wouldn’t be right.

It was frustrating.

The only other person that he knew in town was Mila and Sara by acquaintance, the Crispino’s in passing and Phichit, the cheerful stagehand who was only grouchy around Yuuri. He knew if he just put himself out there a little more he’d surely make a friend, but that had never been easy for him. It wasn’t even easy to talk to his own husband. Because Victor was just… too nice to him. Always willing to listen and always wanting to be around him, giving him an unusual amount of attention and always _talking_ to him… it was so queer!

His parents had a good marriage, he felt, and even so he’d never seen them talk to each other as much as Victor did with him, among other things.

And it wasn’t as if he could write to his mother and ask if this was normal. If he so much as implied that his marriage was less than perfect, then their suspicions would be correct. They’d tell him he should come home, he made a mistake, and other things he knew were not true.

Just because his marriage wasn’t like everyone else’s did not make it wrong. He just had to figure out a way for Victor to meet him where he was. That was a thought for another time, though.

 ***

Some other time came in early July. 

Independence was to have a grand Independence Day celebration. Many folks took pride in making the day outstanding, because it was  _their_ namesake, after all. 

As it rained heavily on the actual day, (Wednesday) the festivities were postponed until Sunday. The men chipped in some of their animals for a good barbecue and many of the women supplied desserts, sides and decorations. There was a small band who'd play in the evening and someone had bought fireworks as well. Yuuri spent most of Saturday attempting to bake something to bring with them to the festivities, but everything he attempted failed. It either burnt, didn’t rise, or simply looked unappealing. Saturday was for baking but in the new Nikiforov household, Saturday was mostly for dishwashing.

By dinner, (which… wasn’t that good) Victor volunteered to make an apple pie and teach Yuuri for future reference. And maybe Yuuri would let him start making breakfast, at the very least, because he wasn’t sure his stomach could handle pretending to enjoy it a day longer. Recently he’d been eating a piece of toast, that’s it.

He was hungry and tired.

(and unbelievably horny at this point, but we'll get to that.)

In the morning, Victor drew water and the three of them took turns in the tub. Yuuri was last, and Victor watched how he was so delicate when it came to washing himself, like he was a fragile doll apt to break at any moment. Whereas Victor always vigorously scrubbed himself to save time as his instincts were that he was still bathing in a rushing, icy river somewhere in Wyoming, Yuuri took his time and made bathing look appetizing. He used a sweet-smelling soap from the store that Victor himself never thought to use, and when he stood, he had to watch the soapy water drip down Yuuri’s slim form, his… 

“Victor, I need a towel.”

“Oh, right.” He shook his head to clear his clearly perverted thoughts and passed Yuuri a towel. Was it perverted if you were married to the person involved?

Maybe?

Yuuri wrapped the towel around his waist and disappeared up the stairs.

.

Yuuri wore a hoop beneath a navy blue skirt with white polka dots, a plain white, frilled top with a rounded neckline that showed a bit of his shoulders—and his collar quite generously. How he longed to uncover his neck in this heat, but he simply wore a red choker to protect himself and his dignity. His hat was wicker and wide enough to shield him from the sun and he laced a red sheer ribbon round it to add to his patriotism, along with a flower. His boots were black and laced up his shins.

He wondered if he would be able to get out the door.

Victor dressed in navy blue slacks, a white shirt and wore a red bandana round his neck. He went without a hat, he said it might mess up his hair, which looked quite good today (not that it ever didn’t).

And to Yura’s seething anger, Yuuri dressed him in navy overalls with a red and white striped shirt underneath. He put his hair up halfway to keep it out of his face and made him wear shoes that pinched. He didn’t _want_ to go out where there was so many people.

“Come on, Yura,” Yuuri called from the steps leading downstairs. “We have to go!” The skirt just  _barely_ fit through the stairwell, but Yuuri dismissed Victor's offer of assistance. He clutched the white parasol he knew that Victor and Yura would need with their pale complexions and tapped his foot impatiently. 

Yura almost, _almost_ told him _No_. But saying no would mean talking and talking one time meant being expected to talk always and he was not ready to do all that yet. His papa hated when he talked too much, always kept him quiet when he was around. He got used to being quiet.

And ever since the fire… 

“And here's our Yura.” Victor picked him up and put him on his shoulders, and he snapped out of the daze he was in. “Let’s go get some ice cream."

.

Yuuri wished he'd gone down the street and bought a fan, because it was far too hot for him to be wearing all these layers. The parasol helped a little, and he was grateful for that. 

After a long day of festivities, all that was left was the fireworks to watch, and Yuuri knew they could do that from home. Yura was asleep against Mrs. Nikiforov, who promised to take him home. And suddenly Victor took his hand, dragging him towards the live music that had been playing for most of the evening. “Let’s have a dance!” 

“Mmm…” Yuuri swallowed a protest, allowing Victor to take both his hands. “Can I get a drink first? I get nervous."  
  
“For what? So you can spit it out on me?” He teased with a wink. Yuuri pushed him away after a step or two and stalked towards the nearest saloon, Victor calling after him. 

He had a drink. Then two. Then three. Victor waited by the door and intervened after the fourth, and they drank Yuuri's fifth together. Yuuri was fine, he could still stand and felt a little more giddy than he had earlier on in the day. He realized how noisy it was in this saloon, though. Men of all ages were drinking and some even singing, it was _so_ hot in there, and… the fresh air outside felt good on his skin. “Maybe we should get you home before you—”

“I believe I promised you a dance.” Yuuri said, voice serious. He took Victor's hand and guided him onto the dance floor.  

Their first dance was a little clumsy; Victor seemed too nervous to put his hand on Yuuri’s waist; Yuuri kept stepping on his husband’s toes. Both were blushing a brighter red than half the stripes on the flag, their nervous laughter almost cute. It didn’t take long for Yuuri to forget his shyness once the alcohol really kicked in.

He liked to dance; he had taken lessons back home from his godmother. And Victor did well, but Yuuri was clearly better and led him through each dance. They danced for so long that the alcohol ate up the rest of his memory of the night.

If only he had remembered what had been said after the party was over... 

.

“Yuuri,” Victor held his husband up as they sat on a bench in front of the store, watching the last of the fireworks. Yuuri’s legs finally ceased to work and he decided to rest here for a while. It wasn't proper for an omega to be drunk in public, but that was the least of Victor's concerns at the moment.

“Hm?” Yuuri mumbled, eyes sliding shut. He leaned his head on Victor's shoulder. 

Victor took a moment to speak, but his words were surprising. “I love you.”

His eyes snapped open and he turned to face him. “Huh?! You what…?”

“I’ve known it all along, but… I really do love you, Yuuri.”

Yuuri blinked back tears almost instantly. “But… you can’t.”

“Why not?” His thumb massaged Yuuri’s hand. “We’re married after all, and you’re so wonderful, you make me so happy—”

“But you don’t know me.” Yuuri interjected sadly. “If you knew who I really was, you would never say what you’re saying.” 

“I think you’re wrong. How do you know how I’ll react if you’ve never told me?” Victor grasped Yuuri’s hands to keep him from escaping (and walking might be dangerous). “Just talk to me, Yuuri. You wanted me to be myself, and I have. But I feel like you’re not if you have to hide something from me.”

“I just don’t want you to be mad at me…” Now Yuuri had started crying, making Victor feel terrible. Yuuri threw his arms around Victor’s neck and cried, “No matter what, be my husband, or don't, just please don’t leave me, Victor!”

“I’m not leaving you…” Victor assured, gently rubbing circles into his back. “Now, why don’t you tell me what’s bothering you, love?”

Yuuri took a deep breath, sniffling in Victor’s shoulder. His voice was muffled, but Victor understood what he said. “I’m not a virgin.”

And Victor didn’t so much as flinch, but he _wanted_ to laugh. “Okay… why didn’t you tell me? You knew I wasn’t going to be upset…”

“Because I was ashamed and it was a very much consented loss of virginity so there’s no excuses because I was never married before and back home e-everyone…” Yuuri trailed off, realizing even in his drunken state that he had said a bit too much. “It’s just… what everyone expects of me. I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. Did you think, coming into this marriage, that I too was a virgin?”

Yuuri sniffed, pulling back slightly to look at him. “Well, I figured you weren’t, but it didn’t really matter.”

“That’s how I feel with you, Yuuri. And in case you were wondering, I am.”

“You’re a…”

“Yes. Turns out, longing for an actual relationship instead of a simple one-night stand isn’t the best wish to have when you’re always on the go. I’ve spent twenty-seven years waiting for the one that I just knew I would stay with.”

Yuuri’s mouth hung open. “So… so you’re probably upset with me for making you wait so long…!”

“No, Yuuri, I’m _not_ upset with you, darling!” He exclaimed. “Stop believing I’m always upset with you, because I’m not! I swear I’m not… I love you, Yuuri. I’ll wait forever if I have to."

***

The weather stayed cold at the start of November, and from then on, everyone in town stayed bundled up and Yuuri no longer kept the windows open upstairs during the day. They stayed shut tight and sometimes the curtains, too, to keep in the warmth. 

At night, Yuuri had no choice but to snuggle up to his husband to stay warm once the temperature dropped. Some nights in early December, it was simply too cold for their poor adopted son, and so he would kick Victor until he allowed him to sleep in the middle, though he always stayed closer to Yuuri. Sometimes he would kick Victor out of the bed completely by laying sideways.

Yuuri heard Yura’s voice for the first time on one of those nights that he stayed in their bedroom.

Yuuri was awake as he’d gotten up to go use the chamberpot. He had just emptied the pan and was going to extinguish the candle’s flame when he heard soft whimpering coming from the bed.

“Yura?” He sat beside him, stroking his hair in attempts to soothe him upon noticing his crying. “What is it?” He asked softly, despite knowing that he probably wasn’t going to get an answer. 

To his shock, he actually received one.

“Want… Mother…” Came his soft voice, reminding Yuuri of a kitten in its pitch and gentleness.

Victor said Yura’s mother died when he was a baby, but as his father was seldom home, he was raised by a nursemaid, mostly. Perhaps that’s what he meant? “Mother…!”

Victor opened an eye and gave Yuuri a wary look. “Another nightmare?”

“Seems like it.” Yuuri pulled the little boy into his arms and gently rocked him. “It’s alright, Yura… it’s just a dream…”

He didn’t speak or cry anymore after that, and Yuuri assumed he went back to sleep. He met Victor's eyes, momentarily distracted by the completely smitten expression on his husband's face. “Does he often call for his mother?”

“No, usually he calls for his father or his nursemaid.”

“What did he call _her_?”

“Well, he never knew his mother and did not see the nursemaid as one, exactly. She died in the fire, too. Died to save him. He called her Nanny.”

Yuuri’s chest felt a bit strange after that. _Who was he talking to, then?_

.

Shortly before Christmas, it officially became unbearable for Yuuri to sleep upstairs. They were currently in the midst of their first major snowstorm and he demanded for Victor to take their mattress downstairs so that they could sleep in front of the fire. It was just far too cold. He didn't know how anyone could live with this weather all the time without a fire burning in their room.

Yuuri stayed up late into the night sewing together a warmer blanket than before from material that came from stock. Victor had asked him several times to come to bed, but when Yuuri wanted to do something, he wouldn’t be stopped until it was finished.

So Victor watched him from the floor until his eyes were too droopy to stay open.

...

“Victor…”

“Mm.” He couldn’t open his eyes anymore… sleep… was coming…

“I’m going down to the outhouse.”

“Okay. Want me to—”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Be safe.”

…

Yuuri put on his cloak and hurried down the steps into the ice-cold store. It looked much more frightening at night, for it was completely dark outside and silent. Yuuri clutched the lantern he’d taken from the kitchen and braved his way into the stock room. _I could’ve just used the chamber pot, but I’m certain my urine would freeze._

Walking through shelf after shelf let his imagination get the better of him. He kept swearing he saw someone standing behind one and then following him the further through he got…

He was glad when he reached the outhouse and quickly locked the door. He tried not to make a sound because that shadow, _surely it must be Victor teasing me_ , seemed to be walking around in the stockroom! He could hear footsteps; whoever it was had barefeet, but he could still hear them…

Yuuri held his breath, pinching himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. Everything had been locked up, and there was no sign of forced entry into the store. It _had_ to be Victor. He considered yelling out to him to stop fooling around, but he still wasn’t 100% certain that it actually was Victor and could not afford to take any chances.

It was when something fell off the shelf— and shattered— that he was glad to be sitting in an outhouse…He covered his mouth to avoid a scream upon hearing the swear that followed the item shattering. It was not Victor’s voice. And while it didn’t sound like his ex (whom he had always been terrified of finding him here and slitting his throat when Victor wasn’t looking) it could always be…

Knees up to his chest, he dimmed the lantern and prayed for Victor to have heard the racket and come downstairs to save him, but he didn't.

.

Yuuri was a shy young man, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t practical. On cold nights like this he would always huddle as close to Victor as he could under the covers no matter what reservations he may have had during the day. But strangely enough, when Victor woke up to the first lights of dawn, Yuuri was not beside him and the lantern was still missing.

He paled. “Yuuri?” His voice echoed through the silent house, further sinking his heart to the pit of his stomach. There was no sense in checking upstairs. He either left, was hurt somewhere, or…

He slipped on his shoes and tip-toed downstairs, listening for any signs of life.

He heard nothing.

The stockroom looked almost the same, but there was a shattered teapot on the ground, furthering his suspicion. “Yuuri?”

The outhouse door was still locked. “Are you in there? Yuuri?!” He yanked on the handle until he was sure it’d fall off, and then suddenly it was unlocked.

If he had been pale before, Yuuri’s current appearance made him even paler. His lips were almost blue from the cold, teeth chattering and he was shivering terribly. “My _god_ , Yuuri, what happened?”

“S-someone w-was in the s-store, Victor!” He clung onto him, slightly relieved when Victor’s cloak was wrapped around his shoulders. “I h-heard something s-shatter, and—”

“Perhaps it was just a draft?” 

“N-No, I heard someone walking around! I was so f-frightened that I couldn’t move!” 

He wasn’t doubtful of Yuuri’s account. Surely there must have been someone here. And they might still have been… “Why don’t you go back upstairs?”  
  
“I’m not going by myself.”

“I figured as much.”

So Victor offered Yuuri his arm, and together, they began looking through the stockroom for anything out of the ordinary. It did not take long to find out the whereabouts of their intruder, for he was asleep on a pile of fabric, under several wool coats. And still, he shivered.

“What the hell are you doing in here?!” Victor immediately shouted, startling the man awake. Yuuri recognized him as Phichit Chulanont.

“I’m— Mr. Nikiforov, I’m sorry!” He spluttered, standing and starting to fold up the things he had taken. Victor grabbed his arm.

“What were you doing here, Phichit? Trying to steal from us? Hurt someone?" 

“No, sir! I meant no harm to your family, I just… it was so cold in the stables and I couldn’t stand it a moment longer!” Despite Phichit's desperate voice, he kept his eyes down, never daring to make eye contact.

“And I suppose the stock was of no interest, huh?!” Victor grabbed him by the collar, shaking him. “What did you steal? I could have you arrested for this!" 

“Victor, stop,” Yuuri took his arm. “He didn’t take anything. He was asleep here the whole time, please let him go."

Victor did let him go, and Phichit stumbled on the ground. He got onto his knees as if to beg forgiveness, head bowed. “I didn’t mean to break the teapot, Mr. Nikiforov, I was startled by your husband and tripped, and…” 

“That cost a lot of money.” Victor’s expression stayed stern.

“I… I can try to pay it off… but my wages are small and it might take time, but I’ll do anything… please, Mr. Nikiforov…”

“Where do you live, Phichit?” Victor asked.

 “In the stable loft.”

“You haven’t a home?” 

“Well, I was saving for one, but then my parents got sick… so all my money has been sent to them.”

“So you’re freezing to death and couldn’t have stayed in the inn?”

“I could barely see in front of me last night, and I haven’t got any money on me. I knew that I would’ve been kicked out.”

“How did you get in here?” Victor crouched in front of the broken tea pot and started collecting its pieces, probably wondering if he could somehow repair or reuse it for something else.

“The back door was unlocked. I didn’t know it was, I was planning on trying every door I came across… I wasn’t targeting your family, I swear to God I wasn’t…”

“I believe him, Victor.” Yuuri said. “And it was freezing out there as I know… we should let him upstairs so he can warm up.”

“After you hid from him all this time?” Victor sighed. "I don't know." 

“Come upstairs, Phichit.” Yuuri said with determination. “I’ll make you a hot meal and Victor will stoke the fire, won’t you, darling?”

Victor was taken aback by the sudden term of endearment, and though he was still angry with Phichit, he found himself blushing as he always did when Yuuri surprised him. “Uh… okay. Okay.”

 By the end of the day, he had made arrangements with Phichit to pay off what he had broken and stay with a friend of his for the remainder of the winter. Phichit would work at the store after Victor left in the spring.

.

Two days before Christmas, Yuuri received three parcels from Delaware and was so excited that he wasn’t sure he could contain his excitement. With the parcels came two letters from home, and both instructed that he wasn’t to open them until Christmas morning. What was most surprising is that they weren’t all for him; his family had actually bought Victor and Yura something as well. 

.

 

_To Yuuri Katsuki-Nikiforov,_

_By the time this letter reaches you, it will likely be close to Christmas. Every year at home, as you know, we have a large dinner party and open our gifts afterwards. You always hated waiting so long and I’m sure you will not keep our tradition. As long as you choose to open your parcel on Christmas, we’ll be alright._

_Things have been quiet around here since you left. Business has been pleasantly tranquil, and over the summer we went up to Montpelier, Vermont, to visit some family we hadn’t seen in years. If only it was easier to visit you, but the railroads are always improving. Perhaps one day, perhaps even this summer, we will come and visit you (with your permission, of course). We hope that you’re happy in Missouri and that everyone’s well. We miss you terribly, Yuuri._

_Mom &Dad_

.

And, from his sister,

.

_Yuuri,_

_I tried, I really did, but I can’t think of a damn thing to say to you that won’t give away my surprise. I’m having a baby in the spring. I hope you have a merry Christmas. Tell Victor and little Yura I said hi. Send some photos. I miss you._

_Love always,_

_Mari_

***

Christmas morning started with the surprise of Yuuri’s life, even more shocking than the news of his sister’s pregnancy (as Mari had sworn that she would never, _ever_ have a child, due to her dislike of children and how busy things were at the inn).  Yuuri longed to sleep in Christmas morning, but before the sun could rise in the sky, he and Victor were woken by an… unusual noise.

A squeal! And suddenly, the door burst open and Yura started jumping on the bed. “Wake up, old man, wake up! It’s Christmas!” He jumped onto Victor’s back. “Wake up!” 

Victor was startled, to say the least, as he hardly could process that _this_ was the voice of his adopted son… why now, of all times, was he speaking? Did Yura even realize what he was doing?! 

And then, the most important moment of all. Yura gently climbed off Victor, and hugged Yuuri’s arm tightly. “Wake up, Mother… it’s Christmas…”

And that’s who Mother was to Yura. Somehow it made sense….

.

Yura sat in the parlor beside the tree that Yuuri and him had dragged into the house the day before, decorated with candles and ornaments they made. He was opening his third gift, from Victor— some toy he had pointed out weeks before. 

Yuuri sipped his morning cup of tea and eyed his parents’ presents. He’d yet to get one from Victor… And it wasn’t like he directly asked for anything, but… most husbands… probably _should_ get their significant other’s… a gift for Christmas, you know… 

“I wanna open this one now.” Yura shook one of Yuuri’s parcels. “Can I?” It was strange, how Yura suddenly decided to start speaking to them, but Yuuri wasn't going to complain about it. He loved hearing their son's voice. 

“Just a minute,” Yuuri set his glass aside. “Victor needs to open his, too.”

“Oh, you shouldn’t have.” Victor seemed quite drowsy, still, seated on the floor with his back to Yuuri's legs.

“Ah-ah… it’s not from me. My parents sent this all the way from Delaware.” He gave Victor his parcel and pecked the top of his head. “Merry Christmas, part one. You’ll get part two later.” He said with a wink, leaving Victor gaping.

(Part two counted as a birthday gift, too, so Yuuri knew it had to be spectacular). 

Yura was given a set of alphabet blocks, and Victor a pair of reading glasses—Yuuri may or may not have helped out on this gift, based on how he’d seen Victor struggle to read— and he looked handsome in them.

They gave Yuuri another set of glasses for himself, which he was quite glad for as his old ones were falling apart. But because that was his only gift of the day, he was a little disappointed. Perhaps he was spoiled for wanting more, and to be fair his birthday _was_ last month, but he _wanted more._

Back home Yuuri often got presents from whichever man he was with, his family and his godmother and he’d seldom received a thing since moving here. Even though Victor said that he could have whatever he wanted from the stock, it wasn’t the same. He wanted Victor to think of him and buy him something. But perhaps he was just too busy for that. It reminded Yuuri that he was nothing more than a child for being upset about something as trivial as this. Still, as he watched Victor make their breakfast, he felt ready to cry because he hadn’t been given anything, and it only worsened throughout the day. By the time Victor’s family had arrived and they gave only their son a birthday gift, Yuuri had lost it.

So what if he was spoiled. He wanted something and Victor _knew_ what he wanted and he didn’t get it for him and…

Yuuri excused himself before supper and went upstairs to calm himself down. _Calm down, Yuuri, you’re not a child anymore. Were you honestly expecting to be gifted like one? You’re married now with a child. Life is never fun out here and you knew that when you agreed to this. You won’t enjoy anything here. There are no gifts to give._

It wasn’t hard to admit to himself that it sometimes was quite boring here. He hardly ever left the house except to do laundry or run an errand because he was too shy to socialize with anyone. Too afraid that if he let his guard down, even for a second, the man he still had nightmares about would be just around the corner, waiting for him. That he’d slit his throat, right out in the open, and... 

Yuuri burst into tears at the thought and locked the door until he could calm himself down enough to go to supper. If anyone noticed his puffy eyes, they said nothing.

_I want to go home._

The parcel hidden behind Yuuri's pillow went completely unnoticed until late that night, and while Yuuri did feel guilty for complaining so much (internally) his longing to go home wouldn't go away, and for that, his guilt multiplied. 

* * *

 

1856

 It killed Yuuri to notice the excitement creeping into Victor’s voice every time he mentioned leaving for his first trip in late March. He could hardly believe that their year together was about to come to a close and he hadn’t done a thing to ensure that it was an enjoyable one. He found himself overthinking their every interaction. Wondering if Victor even liked him still.

He knew his cooking was bad and his laundry didn’t really smell like anything that he put into the water, the house stayed tidy but never polished to perfection and most importantly they had never gone all the way intimately…

What if this was it? What if Victor would send him back to Dover with Yura after this? Yuuri had wasted his time for long enough. He debated packing his things but decided to wait until Victor told him to leave in case…

“I’m going to miss you, Yuuri.” His eyes snapped open in the dark room and it took him a minute to process what Victor had said to him. It was the night before Victor was to leave and also their first wedding anniversary. “Are you sure you’ll be alright here?” 

“No.” Yuuri said before he could stop himself. He rolled his eyes at his own stupidity. “I-I mean…”

“Well, Phichit will be taking care of the store, so things will really go on the same as they have before.”

_Every day is just the same, and that’s what I hate! I need a change of scenery! I want to do something fun! I’m tired of being here in this flat, open prairie!_

“Yeah.” Yuuri bit his lip.

“I’ll visit whenever I can. It just depends on how things go.”

“I understand, Victor.”

“...I was hoping to go a little farther than usual this year, if that’s alright with you.”

“...What..?”

“You know, it’s been a while since I’ve seen my brother and I wanted to check in on him. That might distance the time that we’ll see each other over the summer, but I might not get many more chances to make the trip out to Laramie…”

“Do whatever you want.” It was easy to tell that Yuuri was being short with him and Yuuri knew it wouldn’t take long to piss Victor off. “It’s not like I’m going anywhere.”

“Yuuri…”

“And I understand now that you only married me so you can go do whatever you want without the responsibility of this child who relies on both of us. So throw all that responsibility on me and run off until September like you’ll always do, right? That’s your _job_ , isn’t it?”

“Yuuri.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can stay here alone all year. I never leave this house and you get the freedom to travel the country… it’s just not fair. Maybe we should end this. You’re happier when you get to do what you want, and Yura and I just hold you back, so let’s end this—”

“Yuuri, _stop_.” Victor leaned over his husband and covered his mouth. “You don’t know what you’re saying here. I _can’t_ take you with me, if I could, I—”

Yuuri pushed his hand aside. “And _why_ not? Do you think I can’t handle it?”

“It’s not about that. It’s dangerous out there, exhausting work… it’s not something I want you to experience unless you absolutely have to.”

“Then why do so many people go?! Why do _you have to_?” Victor had yet to pull back from him...

“You knew that I was going to do this for the entire year, Yuuri! So why are you suddenly so against it? You know I have to go to keep us in business, you know how important this is to me.” His voice softened. “Before you, it… it’s all I had.” 

Yuuri turned his head away in hopes Victor wouldn’t see the frustrated tears threatening to spill over. He did. “Yuuri… what’s really bothering you about this…?” He stroked Yuuri’s cheek, frowning when his hand dampens. Never before had he met someone who could cry so much within seconds… as if someone had turned on a faucet.

Yuuri held his hand in place, “Y-You tell me I can’t come and go on about h-how dangerous it is… and then you don’t take it into consideration how _worried_ I am for you? If it’s so bad out there, I— well, what if you never come back?”

“Oh, my love,” Something in Yuuri’s words seemed to finally have broken through that thick head of Victor’s, and he responded by resting their foreheads together. “I didn’t think of that. You’re right, there is always a chance I won’t…”

“Don’t say it, you’ll jink us.” Yuuri hissed, hugging him close. "I don't want you to die."

“No promises, but anyway, please remember what I told you, back on Independence Day.” Yuuri tried to think back, but most of that evening was a blur to him after he started drinking his woes away.

“What did you tell me? Even if I remember I… I think I need to hear it again.”

Victor smiled down at him. “That I love you and I’m not going to leave you.”

And just like before, Yuuri repeated, “But… you can’t.”

Victor blinked in confusion. “Yes, I can. And I do. We’ve been through this. I know you’re not a virgin and you know I am. I’ve been waiting for you with the worst case of sexual frustration of my life since then, but that’s okay, I’m patient. And anyway, I still love you and so long as I’m alive, I’ll come back to you.”

“Wait… you know?”

“Are you seriously telling me you don’t remember?” Victor tilted his head. “It was after you drank all that alcohol. We sat outside the store and all you said was that you’re not a virgin. I thought that you knew that _I_ knew and all this time you just weren’t in the mood—”

“No, I was! I was just worried what you might think if you found out!” Yuuri covered his face. “Oh god…”

“Well… as I said before, I really don’t care about any of that. I just love you the way you are, so you don’t have to keep any secrets from me.”

Yuuri squirmed under the sheets, body uncomfortable and becoming needy. “That takes a huge weight off my chest, then. I’m sorry for making you wait so long.”

“It’s not like we’ve been completely chaste all this time.” He knew what Victor was referring to; Christmas, Yuuri’s birthday, and a few times during the summer where Yuuri did things that he usually didn’t “waste time” doing with any of his past relationships. And he figured that all this teasing should have sent Victor over the edge by now, but somehow, be it masturbation or the little Yuuri had given him, he survived. “And besides,” Victor leaned in to his ear, “we could always start now…”

Normally, he would push his husband away at a moment like this. But now that one of his secrets was out, he felt a little better and decided he was ready to take their relationship to the next level. It didn’t solve the undermining issue here: that Victor was leaving him in the morning to face all sorts of danger, but it was nice to forget, even for a moment.

He took a deep breath.

“Okay.”

.

Stripping out of his pajamas— any clothes in general— used to be the easiest part for Yuuri when it came to sex. When he first lost his virginity, he thought what he did was fun, scandalous, an exciting break to the dullness of his life. It hurt, _badly_ , but Yuuri was told that it would ease up once he got used to it. Perhaps it would have been better if his partners ever thought of him when they were intimate. But no, Yuuri quickly caught on to the idea that sex was made to please the dominant partner, and according to his studies and a few books, his role was to lay there and take it.

 

There were times that he very much wanted to be taken, but other times it seemed more like a chore and he was eager to get it over with. If he tried refusing, he was worried that his men wouldn’t want him anymore. If he broke up with them, they’d spread rumors. Two of his three partners ended up married and buried their dirty little secret. One of them lived in Oregon now, the other stayed in Dover and occasionally winked at Yuuri in passing. The third, well… we all know how that went. 

Regardless of what he enjoyed, he learned that sex meant something different to everyone. For some, it was a hobby, for others, it was just for reproduction, for people like Yuuri it was more of an obligation.

For Victor, it seemed to be a monumental event. It was hard to believe that this was his alleged first time for how he treated Yuuri.

Victor carefully removed every article of clothing and set it neatly on the bedside table. He was clearly nervous, but determined nevertheless. This should have happened months ago. How silly of him to have forced his husband to wait this long for something that honestly didn’t matter. 

“I want to take this slow. I’ve never done this before and I want to savor it. I’m sorry if I make you impatient.”

“It’s okay… just start the way we usually do.”

.

It never took long for Yuuri to become aroused, but surprisingly enough, it did for Victor that night. Yes, Yuuri wasn’t helping him in any way, but it seemed that his nerves were getting the better of him. “Hah… I’m sorry, Yuuri.” Victor chuckled nervously, removing his hand from Yuuri’s more than ready entrance. “I guess I’m just a bit unsure.” 

“It’s okay. Do you want me to show you what to do?”

“That would be great.”

.

Victor was much larger than his previous partners and Yuuri knew he was in for it. Because if his last partner hurt him, Victor would surely _destroy_ his— 

But Victor worked to prep him. Massaged him, eased a finger in at a time to stretch him just to make sure he would be alright. Though Yuuri was itching to be penetrated (for once) he was also thankful for the additional preparation, for the moment that Victor began pushing into him, Yuuri’s eyes were blown wide and his mouth hung open, unsure whether to cry out of pleasure or of pain. The first few thrusts were a mixture of both. Yuuri clung onto his back, clamping his lips down on his husband’s shoulder to muffle his moans.

“Does it hurt? Should I stop, darling? I’ll stop if you—”

Yuuri swore for the first time since meeting his husband, followed by, “Damn it, _don’t_ stop!”

It was a whirlwind of emotions. He wanted to enjoy it, no— he _was_ enjoying it— but he would get flashes of the horrific memory of the night that made him lose his baby, being pushed into the sand… and then he was back in the moment. Victor’s scent surrounding him, trying to drown out those bad memories. Living here, being with Victor was a new chance. A chance to make it so his bad experiences would never happen again. Here, he could forget. 

Here, _he_ didn’t exist.

He wrapped his arms around Victor’s neck and buried his face in his shoulder, frustrated that another round of tears decided to make an appearance. _Oh, I do wish I didn’t cry so much._

Victor was so good to him despite how many times Yuuri had rejected him over the past year. Yuuri was certain that he would never find another man like him. But he still wasn’t sure what it was about him that Victor liked so much, why he was so kind to him when all he did was disappoint. “Yuuri… I’m close already, I’m sorry,” Victor’s voice was in his ear. “I don’t want to get you pregnant, and—”

“Oh, you’re not going to. I’m not fertile at the moment.” Yuuri’s brain came to the surface several moments later, but his body felt like jelly. _I’ll never be fertile._

“Oh, good… do you… do you ever want to?”

Yuuri didn’t respond the way he wanted to (he just said "maybe someday") because he wasn’t ready to reveal more about himself and honestly wasn’t sure if he even _did_ want another child. And that his brain had turned to much, for in the time of Victor’s sole “quick” climax, Yuuri had reached two, which was two more than he usually had.

.

Afterward, Yuuri was worn out and didn’t care to move even though his body was sticky and coated in sweat and other fluid. Victor wiped his stomach with a damp cloth, gave him a cup of water. Yuuri simply went through the motions, allowing himself to be taken care of because walking definitely was out of the question. For some reason, that thought really satisfied him. 

Victor helped him back into his pajamas and he was tucked in as if none of that had happened. And then they were back to laying side by side, same as always.

Until Yuuri regained some of his movement. The moment he did, he snuggled up to his sweet husband’s side, pleased at the fresh bite he’d left on Victor’s neck and the new one on his own.

It replaced the other marking that had been there for so long, taunting Yuuri with constant reminders of who he belonged to according to the old traditions. When he thought about that, how he could unbar his neck in public and proudly show it without having to worry about people judging him, his face lit up. He thought about all the pretty clothes he could wear now with lower necklines and what he’d wear to see Victor off tomorrow. 

To his glee, Victor reciprocated his affections and held Yuuri close.

Never had he felt so happy. Never so safe.

“I’m going to miss you, too.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. chapter count went up! might go down to 8, but I don't think I can tell the whole story with 7 chapters, so we'll see...
> 
> 2\. I just graduated from community college\\(^o^)/ so my summer has begun and I will have a completely open schedule to do nothing but write and hopefully catch up on my other fic, as well. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Next time: it's hard to watch him leave. it's even harder staying safe while he's gone.


	5. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's starting to seem as if this living arrangement simply isn't working out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: 
> 
> This chapter contains violence, a perilous situation and a brief moment of unintentional self-harm. Not directly in that order, but scattered across the chapter.

The thin spritz of light brown hair atop the newborn's head is soon covered by a crocheted hat that Yuuri pulled from the side-table drawer. It is a soft yellow, adding to her adorableness, Victor feels. If only Yuuri could retrieve everything she will need from that drawer, like a magician pulling a rabbit out of his hat. 

But the Leroys promised to bring back a few things in the morning; they’ve gone to find their wagon and a comfortable place to sleep for the night. Victor can only hope that there are things in town for an infant, but he doubts there’s much more than fabric to  _ make  _ reusable diapers. 

Turning his attention to Yuuri, who looks so sick and weak— apparently he was quite sick over the past few days— he starts to realize that there isn’t anyone around to  _ help _ Yuuri either, should he need it. They had a physician about thirty miles east once, but then he  _ died _ , so… 

Yuuri still has the tiny, nameless baby, against his chest, and both are dozing off, but both look cold as well. Winter will be here soon enough. The house is large, but hastily made, and Victor is not sure if it’ll hold up if their winter is anything like the last. There aren’t good resources in the area to make a strong house, and there aren’t any homes in town for sale, either. Their only option, if they stay in town, would be to stay in the back of the store, in  _ storage _ , as it had no second floor. 

And it wasn’t his typical longing for the finer things in life that made him dread the idea of having a not-yet two hour-old infant sleep on the floor of a tiny general store in the middle of nowhere. Perhaps it is time that he told Yuuri about…

_ No, not yet. It might not be ready and I don’t want to get his hopes up. _

Ever since the three of them were involved in a tragic accident several years ago while on their way home to Independence,  Victor took that as a sign from God and decided he could no longer bear keeping Yuuri out in the midwest when he was so miserable. So, the next year, instead of making his usual rounds, he went east, though not all the way to the coast. He learned of some bustling business involving transporting goods along canals… and that’s what started it all.

Ever since he saw what kind of business he might achieve there, he decided to take a chance and had a home built for them near one of its ports. It’s been a long time, but it’s going to be a very large house, and the last he checked just a few months ago, it was nearing completion.

It was still a lengthy train ride from Dover, but perhaps Yuuri would enjoy living closer to his roots, perhaps he would be safer,  _ feel  _ safer… 

When a gust of wind sends a draft through the walls, a pang of guilt impales Victor.  _ But the baby…  _

She is so beautiful, especially now that she is cleaned off and… not screaming. Her eyes are a dark brown like Yuuri’s, she has a perfect, round face and rosy cheeks, but her skin is fair and Victor hopes that trait is because of him and not a sign of an illness. 

_ But if she gets sick before we leave or on the journey, heaven forbid, there’s nothing for her. _

Stifling a yawn, Victor decides to sleep on it. He needs a bath, a shave, and someone to tell him what the hell he’s supposed to do.

Babies are born on the prairie all the time. Some die, but those who survive are strong and perfectly healthy (unless they randomly die of cholera or something) just like in any other place.

But he doesn’t want the chance of her being in danger, the way Yura has been for the past five years. And the only place he can guarantee a bit more safety is in the east. Where the homes are warmer, the winters less harsh, and having the ability to access doctors and neccessities for her. He wonders how Yuuri will feel if he announces that he’d like to take the four of them to Dover instead for awhile, until his surprise is finished being built.

Yuuri didn’t like Dover because of who was there and who remembered what, but things are different now, aren’t they?

They have a child together whose safety is essential above all else: above the rumors, above any treatment they may receive, she comes first now and always will. 

If they are to go to Dover, they will need to leave soon to beat out the frost in case the cold air gets the baby sick. In fact, he doesn’t really know when that cold air is coming, so there definitely will be a risk regarding traveling…

He slides into bed beside Yuuri after undressing and spends a long while just staring at their newest addition. She’s still awake, somehow, but she clings to Yuuri’s chest with her tiny hands  curled into fists. Her cheek is squished against his skin, little pink lips parted because of it, and she watches Victor with those dark, curious eyes. 

He reaches across the small gap between them and runs a finger down her cheek, marveling at how soft it is. Victor loves her already, though they have barely interacted thus far. He held her earlier for a few minutes until her yowling grew tiresome and she was handed off to Yuuri.

But now that it’s just the two of them awake, perhaps now would be a good time for them to bond a bit. Carefully, Victor lifts her off of Yuuri— stopping to reassure his drowsy husband that it was only him— and he sits on the side of the bed with her in the crook of his arm. At first, she looks like she’s going to cry, but it doesn’t take long for her to warm up to him. Her hand can curl around just one of his fingers (he forgot just how  _ small _ babies are) and he tears up watching her do so.

They haven’t named her yet. Victor already knows what name Yuuri has in mind. There is no doubt in his mind that Yuuri will call their daughter Lara, but Victor’s always liked Camille. And there’s always the possibility that Yuuri will want to honor Isabella Leroy in the name as well, so he’s pretty sure he won’t have a say-so in her name at all. “But you’ll still be my little Camille, won’t you?” He whispers to her. “You know, I had a sister when I was younger named Camille. And she was so beautiful, but not as beautiful as you. And  _ she _ was named by our godmother, Larisa. Hmm… I wonder if Yuuri would mind that name. Lara can be short for Larisa…” 

“Talking about names without me, Vitya?” Yuuri mumbles, slowly turning onto his side to see them. Victor hears him hiss in pain when he tried to move to fast. “Well I want Lara. She did so much for me and I’d like to honor her. She brought me to you, after all, and if she hadn’t, this child wouldn’t be here.”

“You can still call her Lara. I just think Larisa sounds a little better.”

“It’s  _ Lara. _ ” Yuuri says firmly. “I think Lara Giacometti would want me to—”

“For all we know, Lara might not have been her full name.” Victor says, scooting back so Yuuri can see the baby. “Think, Larisa Camille Nikiforov.”   
  
“That does sound nice.” Yuuri admits. “Fine, you can write her down as Larisa Camille, but you must call her Lara unless she needs a scolding.”

“That sounds fine to me.” Victor looks down at the baby. “What do you think? Does Larisa Camille sound acceptable?”   
  
Her eyes simply droop shut.

“She isn’t protesting, so I’ll take that as a yes.” Yuuri smiles, leaning over to kiss his husband. Victor lays beside him, carefully setting  _ Larisa  _ in the middle of them. “I can’t believe we have a  _ daughter _ .”

“I can’t believe you hid it from me for nine months.”

“I know… you should’ve noticed.”

“You should’ve  _ told  _ me.”

Yuuri bites his lip.

“Do you want to talk about it now, Yuuri, or are you going to put it off like you always do, perhaps for several years again?” Victor didn’t mean to raise his voice, but in the heat of the moment he channeled a little bit of his anger for missing the pregnancy, and the effect of that is clear on Yuuri’s face. 

“I’m… I’m sorry…” Yuuri says softly, but he does not cry. His cheeks are flushed. He turns onto his back again and closes his eyes. “I’ll explain everything… when I’m better, okay? Not two years from now. I… I promise.”

“Fine.” 

***

Yuuri can sense the tension in the air when he wakes up in the morning. Victor has the baby again, he can hear her fussing because she needs to be changed. But there is nothing to change her into. All their towels are bloody or covered in other fluids. Frustrated, Victor wraps her in one of Yuuri’s skirts, one he wore for an Independence Day celebration a few years ago. But still, she whines. 

“She’s probably hungry.” Yuuri pushes himself up. His entire body is  _ aching _ , and it takes everything in him not to give in to the tears that threaten to spill from his eyes. “Give her to me.”

“It’s almost ten o’clock, I thought they’d be back by now.” Victor sighs, obeying Yuuri. “Anyway, I’m going to go downstairs and make breakfast. I can’t go check on them because my horse ran off and lord knows where  _ ours _ are—”

“They must’ve been afraid of the tornado and ran off. They were here yesterday…”

“And it’s a five mile walk to Jesse Parker’s farm. Shit.” Victor put his hands on his hips. “I guess we can only hope Bridget and Petunia come back. God knows what happened to Elinor. I was really hoping the Leroys wouldn’t take so long.”

“Perhaps they slept in.” 

“Nah. I think there was something up with them.” 

“Victor!” Yuuri chides. “The Leroys are good people. They saved my life, didn’t they? Would bad people do that?”   
  
“To be fair, it was  _ Isabella  _ who saved your life. That Jean Jacket guy did nothing but find me.”

“I won’t hear another word of this ridiculous accusation. They  _ will _ come back.”

“Oh, my heart, your worst flaw is your trust in humanity.”

.

 

Elinor and Bridget came back around the same time, late into the evening of September 22nd. Chris Giacometti brought Elinor, Bridget came all on her own. Petunia is yet to make a reappearance. 

They hadn’t spoken to Chris in a while, and Yuuri is surprised, to say the least, to see Chris carrying a large pack with him. He crouches in front of Yuuri and sets it at his feet. They are seated in the living room now. “This is from a friend. Not me. But they were set on leaving quickly and the woman asked that this get delivered to your baby. Since we haven't spoken in a while, I figured you must’ve had her by now.”

“Thank you, Chris,” Yuuri smiles softly. “Will you stay for supper?”   
  
“Oh, no, no, I have to get back to the bar.” He stands. “But before I leave, what did you name the baby?”

“Well… we’re going to call her Larisa, or Lara for short. If that’s okay with you…”

  
“I figured you would choose Lara. I like it... and are you doing okay?”

“I’ll be alright, I think.”

“Good. Lara would be so proud of you.”

.

 

The pack has a lot of fabric inside, some being material for baby clothes along with designs for them, and some are to be used for diapers. The diapers won’t be complicated to make, and so Yuuri shows his son how to cut the fabric out properly so that they can have a few for the night. There is also three glass bottles for the baby, knitted mittens and booties. 

“I do wish that they’d delivered all this themselves so I could have thanked them.” Yuuri hums to himself after he puts the first diaper on the baby. “And it would be nice if we could have some help around here now. There’s so much washing to do.”

“And I can take care of it,” Victor has been struggling to get thread through their sewing needle for at least five minutes. “I’ll sew her an outfit, too, just watch.” He might have started sewing by now if he wasn’t so pissed.  _ Chris knew before  _ I  _ did? _

“Victor, your sewing skills are atrocious when it comes to making actual clothing. You are good at mending what’s already been done, but that’s it. And besides, your foot is injured. I don’t expect either of us to be able to go all the way to the creek to wash all this right now.”

“What do you suggest, Yuuri?” Victor smirks once he’s finally gotten the needle threaded.

“Give me a few days to recover, and I’ll go do it myself.”

“With an infant? I don’t think so.” 

“Then… then what are we to do, Victor?” Yuuri frowns as their baby starts to fuss once again. It seems like she is  _ always _ hungry. “It will be winter soon, and… and there’s so much to do, so I  _ have to  _ do something, right…?”

Victor set down the needle and fabric. “The only thing you  _ should  _ be doing is resting. But I was hoping you would ask, though. I think it is ideal that we head east for awhile. We can visit your family and be ensured Larisa will be safe.”

Yuuri wants to protest. But why should he? He’s been wanting to visit his family for  _ years _ , yet there has never been a good time to until now. He worries about coming across a certain someone, but as long as Victor is with him… he should be okay, right? Plus, the more they move around, the less likely it is for  _ him _ to find them… “When will we go, then?”

“It’d have to be soon, before it gets too cold. The nearest station is at least a two day hike from here.”

“We hardly have the time to pack up enough…” Yuuri’s head spins thinking about the amount of work that goes into traveling; packing food, clothing, dishes, keeping Yura entertained on the road, tending the baby, dealing with his own personal care, and...

“Let me handle it, Yuuri. Let’s leave tomorrow.”

“ _ Tomorrow?  _ We don’t even have clothes for the baby yet!”   
  
“You said you’re a quick sewer. One outfit will do for now. We can buy more in Omaha.”

“B-But...  she’s a baby! Have you ever been around a baby? They need their clothing changed tons of times! They throw up on themselves, their diapers overfill, they—”

“If you’d  _ fucking  _ told me you were pregnant we’d be better prepared!!!” Victor has finally snapped, just a day after he’d found out about the baby. He was hoping he’d last longer, but that isn’t happening. “You always keep shit from me, even when it puts us in danger, and I’m fucking tired of it, damn it!”

For a moment, the four in the room— Yura wished he didn’t hear any of this, honestly— are very quiet. Yuuri’s mouth hangs open as he stares at his husband, Yura’s gone back to scowling, Victor’s face is turning pink from his anger, and the poor baby’s face scrunches up as she starts to cry. That ends the silence.

Annoyed, Yuuri looks to his son and says, “Yura, why don’t you go outside for a little while? The chickens need to be put back in the coop for the night.” It is not a question, and Yura understands that. He pushes himself off the ground, hands Yuuri two more diapers that he has cut out, and then disappears out the back door of their house.

Victor hasn’t moved.

Yuuri set the baby down on the sofa in case Victor shook him hard enough to drop the baby. Not that that’s something he’s ever done, but he appears angry enough right now to do it and much worse, Yuuri feels. 

He’s limping back and forth in front of Yuuri, but he’s watching their son from the window until he’s sure he’s out of earshot. “He must be traumatized.”

“He’s known since July.”

“It must have been nice to know. ” Victor shoots at him. “You were so sly, weren’t you? Thinking that this is all some kind of  _ game _ . That’s all our marriage has ever been, hasn’t it? Only I never wanted to play your little ‘See how long I can last without telling Victor important things’ scheme. It’s simply childish and like a slap in the face. Because time after time I’ve proven to you that I deserve your trust and yet you never seem to learn. I’m done asking what I’ve done wrong. What have  _ you _ done wrong to have to hide everything from  _ me _ ?”

“I.. you know what? What I thought I did, what I thought…” Yuuri pinches his lips together. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Well, Chris certainly understood, and apparently I can’t understand anything according to you. I bet he was of great assistance to you all these months. Bet he even kept you warm at night too.” 

“You know damn well Chris sees me as nothing more than a son. And no, Victor, I don’t tell you things because you can’t understand  _ anything _ ,  it’s simply because you’re not me, you’ve never lived a second of my life, so you can’t possibly relate or see why I do the things that I do!” Yuuri’s eyes are dark, and he takes Victor’s hand to yank him onto his knees so they are eye-to-eye. “You can go wherever you’d like with no fear because no one’s going to bother you. But I have to live with the constant fear of being attacked or raped because of something I can’t control! And if  _ you  _ hadn’t left that night in January, you  _ would  _ have known about the baby! But because you didn’t, I was… I- I got…” Victor is staring so intently at him that it’s difficult to say this, but he  _ needs  _ to… “I- I don’t know for sure, but… I’m sorry, I… I have no way of knowing who her father is.”

He expects this to be a devastating blow. For Victor to leave him on the spot. To be accused of betrayal or shouted at or  _ something.  _ But Victor just puts his hands on Yuuri’s shoulders. “But I do know. She’s mine.”

“There’s no way of really knowing, Victor… a-at least not right now, anyway. It might be months or even years before we find out for sure, and maybe we won’t  _ ever _ , and—”   
  
“No, Yuuri, I know. Right now.” His voice softens. “That baby is mine…  _ ours _ ..., and for the record, even if she isn’t, she always  _ will _ be. I would never turn you or her away over something that wasn’t your fault.”

Yuuri bows his head. “I… I figured you’d say that, but there was doubt, you know how my mind works, and…” 

“You should have told me, no matter what. I’m your husband, and I deserve to know about things like this.”

“But-”

“I know you must have thought it was embarrassing, and I’m sure that’s part of the reason you didn’t tell me about it. Something that I promised wouldn’t happen again seemed to have happened in your perspective. But I’ve been keeping something from you, too. I know what happened that night, and he is not the father. I didn’t let him get as far as opening the window before I…”

Yuuri’s mouth hangs open. His eyes close and he takes a deep breath, massaging his temples. “You, Victor… you…”

“That’s right. I killed him.” He says this with no shame, and it’s almost a relief to get his “crime” off his chest. Keeping it to himself for so long hasn’t done him any good. 

“ _ What _ ?” Yuuri’s gasp comes out as a small cry, and he leans back on the couch, elbow on the armrest and hand covering his eyes. All Victor can do is nod. 

“I didn’t want to tell you. I was hoping we could live without bringing it up again, ever.” Victor says, “I found him here, but… he didn’t—”   
  
“Stop, I don’t want to hear how it happened.” Yuuri says, “But if you say he’s dead, I believe you. And that’s… that’s all I need to know right now…”

Victor’s heart feels strange, and not in a good way. Something inside him says that Yuuri will never look at him the same way again. It’s a stinging rejection, in his mind, that he doesn’t deserve at all. “I’d… better go out and get some firewood for the night.”

.

Yuuri spends the evening sewing together a simple outfit for the baby. She’s asleep on the bed in their downstairs room that’s technically Yura’s, but it seems like both him and Victor will sleep upstairs tonight. 

How can Victor be angry with  _ him _ at this point? Knowing well that Yuuri only hid the baby from him because of something they’d now established didn’t happen? 

And if  _ he _ was really dead… 

He should feel relieved, but he can’t be. Because it is possible that someone will come across his body and trace it back to Victor, and then Victor will be punished for his crimes. Perhaps it is good, then, that they are going east. But Yuuri’s not sure he’s ready to face his parents. What will he even say to them?

He saw Mari a few years back. She visited over the holidays, and it felt so wonderful to be around someone from his past again. But his parents, they were a different story.

The worst part of all of this is having to bring up what happened that night before he was ready. Having to think about  _ him _ , as he has for all these months. He’s so tired of thinking about _him_. He pricks himself with the needle and hisses in pain.  _ Focus, Yuuri. Focus. _

In a few days, they will have to board a train again. Yuuri is afraid of doing so. To him, the risks of riding a train are higher than those of traveling across the midwest by foot. He once told Victor that if he was ever forced to get on a train again that he’d have to take at least a few tonics along with him to keep his nerves down. In fact, he feels like taking a sedative right now, but he worries that doing so will stop him from tending to his baby once she wakes up. 

His mother used to say that the first few weeks might be the hardest, in her opinion. Not only are you dealing with such a delicate little human, you also have to tend for your own recovering body.  Andsaid  body isn’t doing so well. He was sick all week, and he’s still recovering from it. He has painful rashes from being in bed in his own fluids for so long, and of course, being that he just birthed a child, certain areas are still in terrible pain. He’s honestly been fighting back tears all day. He’s so uncomfortable in his clothes. The cotton sticks to his skin and rubs against his rashes.

He wants his silk nightgown, but he’s too uncomfortable to even think of asking Victor to retrieve it for him.

He’s still bleeding; not as much as last night, but there will be a lot of discharge for awhile and he’s not sure he wants to go on a train in this condition. But staying here in this hot, uncomfortable house with nothing clean to wear, and… 

Shaking his head at his clouded thoughts, Yuuri notices that he’s gone a bit off and the hem is now crooked on the baby’s first outfit. Tearfully, he pulls out the thread and sets back to work again.  _ I wish my mother was here to help me.  _ He hadn’t longed for her presence in a long time, since before he moved onto this farm in Nebraska. Hell, he hadn’t even wrote to his parents since he temporarily lived in St. Louis a few years ago. Perhaps they are angry with him. Perhaps everyone hates him now, just like Victor does. All he seems to do is cause inconvenience, anyway. First, the shame he inflicted on his family’s name when he got pregnant before he met Victor, and since then he’s sure it’s only intensified, and now his failure to tell Victor about the baby before the day of her birth when he had countless opportunities… 

He wonders— just for a sickening moment— if it would have been better if he and the baby died. And for thinking such a terrible thought about the innocent child beside him, out of impulse, he takes the needle and stabs the back of his hand. Despite obviously knowing what he’s doing, Yuuri’s eyes go wide. “O-Ow!!!” He quickly raises his hand to his lips to keep blood from spilling onto the fabric. “What is  _ wrong _ with me?” He whispers, wiping the needle off with the kerchief at his bedside. 

.

Victor has been listening to their baby cry for a good ten minutes now. At first, he assumed she was simply fussy, but now… well, she’d never cried so much before. It’s only four in the morning, too, and he hopes she won’t be like this from now on.

Giving up on relying on Yuuri to sooth her, he limps to the ladder and finds his way through the darkness to Yura’s bedroom downstairs. He knocks, and there is no answer. “Yuuri, is she alright?”

Even if Yuuri  _ did  _ respond, there’s no way he’d be heard over Larisa’s yowling, Victor realizes. So he walks in anyway.

To his surprise, she is completely alone.

The window is open, the blue flower-patterned outfit Yuuri sewed sat on the bed all finished, and a bottle with just a tad bit of milk rested on the nightstand. Looking out the window, there isn’t enough light to even tell if Yuuri’s just outside using the outhouse or something. But why would he go through the window, of all places? 

Never mind that. After shutting the window, he sits on the bed with the baby and feeds her the last bit of her bottle. She goes back to sleep fairly easily; it seems like she may have just been upset because she was cold and alone. 

She sleeps on his chest, and it doesn’t take him long to drift off with her.

* * *

_Then,_

1856-1857

Independence, and St. Louis, Missouri

 

“Good afternoon, Yuuri!” Mrs. Crispino, the co-owner of Independence Books, was quick to greet the young man the moment the bell rung when he and his little boy entered her shop. They were her regulars, after all, and she made a point to be especially kind to them. 

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Crispino.” Yuuri lifted a hand to wave to her, and Yura was pulled over to the front counter, though he was too short to see over it. 

“Can I help you find anything today?”

“No, we’re just here to read. If you aren’t busy, you’re more than welcome to join us.” Yuuri said, but Yura felt the opposite.  _ Don’t come join us _ . 

“Perhaps in a while, dear,” Said Mrs. Crispino, “but we are closing early. I’m serving _rigatoni_ tonight, have you ever had _rigatoni_?”

“No, ma’am, I think I’ve never had a real Italian dish except for spaghetti once, about a decade ago.” Yuuri turned, big hoop skirt nearly toppling Yura over. “Yura, why don’t you go find a good spot for us to practice reading at? I’ll be right over.”

He frowned, letting go of Yuuri's hand to find their usual spot.

“Then you must come for dinner! My granddaughter, lovely as she is, hardly ever eats with us anymore and even when she does I’m left with too much leftovers.”

“Well… I haven’t started supper yet, so maybe…” Yuuri paused, looking at the old woman’s pleading expression. “Alright, what time shall we be there?”

“Would six o’clock be good?”   
  
“Why, that’d be perfect.”

Yura stamped his foot from the floor by the windowseat and Yuuri’s attention finally shifted back to him. “Oh, I’m coming.” He almost smiled as Yuuri sat beside him with one of the books they’d been working on together. Ever since he turned five two months ago, Yuuri had been working every day with him in both reading and writing, and he ordered a book of arithmetic, which sounded  _ dreadful _ already. He liked reading, but writing was very difficult. So far, he was still working on getting his name in between the lines and his last name was in disarray. 

“Yura. Are you paying attention? What’s this word?”

He looked up to see if Mrs. Crispino was still present. To his luck, she’d gone into the back room, and no one else was around. “Horse.”

“Yes, that’s it! Very good, Yura!” Yuuri hugged him and Yura beamed. “Now, how about this one?” 

“B-Barn...?”

“You’ve got it! Keep going now!”

 

"The... horse. Is. In... the..." He stopped dead in his tracks when Mrs. Crispino's granddaughter entered the store, but to his luck, she went straight to the back room to see her grandmother.

Yuuri hid his disappointment and simply hugged the boy again, saying, “You’re doing perfectly. Soon enough you’ll be a better reader than I am.”

“I know.” Yura nestled into him. “What book are you reading?”

“Hmm… I think I’m going to write today.” Yuuri held up his writing book. He had it with him always, whether or not it was strictly used for letters was beyond the boy's knowledge, but it seemed that Yuuri kept a journal of sorts as of recent.   


“To Victor again?”

“Of course. He likes me to write as much as possible, even if he won’t receive it for awhile. Even if he doesn’t at all. He just wants to know that I’m thinking of him.”

“Yuck.”

“Oh, I know you miss him too.” Yuuri nudged him. “You probably miss his cooking, don’t you?”

Yura began to respond, but upon seeing a stranger enter the store, he clammed up and went back to looking at the pictures in the book. Yuuri just held him and bit back what he wanted to say.

(They had a doctor about a half mile from their house, and two weeks ago, Yuuri took Yura there for the first time. He labeled it as a check-up, but he had something he wanted to ask the doctor as well.

"I don't know what to do with him anymore," Yuuri whispered to him while the two of them watched Yura in the waiting area. "Punishments won't work. He really can't speak around anyone but me and his father. He won't even speak to his grandparents."

"You mentioned he was adopted?" The doctor was highly focused on watching Yura's actions. He seemed to play like a normal child, and he was bright; already reading quite well for his age. "Do you know any details about his home-life before he was adopted?"

"Just that his mother died when he was an infant and he was raised primarily by a nursemaid. His father... passed away in a fire. I was told that my son was asleep during the ordeal, but no, we really don't know what he was like before then. And I can't ask. He deflects it. A five year old  _deflecting_ , Doctor. It concerns me."

"Understandably," He replied. "I'm unsure what is causing this, but I will do what I can to help you. Come back in a week, and I'll have something written out for you to follow with him.")

.

While Yura got dressed for their supper at the Crispino’s, Yuuri read over Victor’s most recent letter to entertain himself. Sometimes, he swore if he pressed his nose to the paper, he could smell Victor. But that’s ridiculous, isn’t it? Unless Victor dabbed his cologne against it, which would have been a nice touch. 

.

_ To my dearest Yuuri, _

_ There is a small creek off the Platte River in Nebraska where a man who had given up on the trail (so soon!) has decided to settle. Because I supplied him and his family with quite a few things they lacked, he asked me to name the nameless creek. I hope you won’t mind that there is now a place in Nebraska called Yuuri’s Creek.  _

_ It’s been busy this year and I hardly have time for a warm meal or to get a restful sleep, and I’m starting to miss even your cooking. I guess that’s about it for now. Soon, once I stop in Lincoln, I will spend a few days with the Giacometti’s and investigate as to why they haven’t responded to any of your letters. How are things at home? I hope everything is well. I intend to come home at the end of May, but after that I won’t be back until September, so let’s make it last? _

_ I love you, _

_ Victor Nikiforov _

.

Victor's return seemed like an eternity away, and they’d go  _ three months  _ without seeing each other? How dreadful! It might take six weeks alone to go from their home to Fort Laramie (it was quicker without a wagon or anything to carry except for necessary supplies) and God knows how long he had to spend there. What if the weather was bad? Thus far, Victor had only frequented Kansas and Nebraska. Wyoming was completely different territory. He worried for his husband and just wanted him to come back to stay.

“Can we go now?” His son whined.

Yuuri broke out of his trance, setting his letter aside. “Let me just get my parasol. It’s hot out this evening.”

.

They walked to the Crispino’s. With every step, Yuuri was mentally writing his response to Victor, one that he just couldn’t seem to finish. He was so distracted by his thoughts that he wasn’t paying attention when Yura tripped on his own two feet and skinned his knee against the road. He cried from that moment all the way to the Crispino’s front door, and Yuuri had to carry him. 

To his surprise, Mrs. Crispino’s granddaughter  _ was _ there, though she looked unhappy with her grandmother. The uncharacteristic scowl evaporated when she spotted Yuuri there, and she immediately offered to treat Yura’s skinned knee. 

“How did you get this, Yura?” She asked him after he was seated on the kitchen counter. He ducked his head, pout on his lips. “Did you fall down?”   
  
He nodded. 

“Ah, the same thing used to happen to me as a child. I ran around too much.” She used a kerchief to clean the blood off his shin. 

“You still do!” Came a pompous voice from the door that Yuuri recognized as Mila’s from the bakery. “Your shoes wear out so often that the cobbler’s grown tired.”  Yuuri watched as Mila set down a basket of baked goods to embrace Sara Crispino. The two women kissed, and as neither were a proclaimed alpha or omega, his mouth hung open.

However, once Mrs. Crispino entered the kitchen, they pulled apart and went along with dinner preparations as if nothing had happened. Yuuri made a reminder to ask one of them more about their relationship at some point; why they trusted Yuuri, a man they hardly knew— not to tell anyone about this taboo relationship, was beyond him.

“Come to the table now, Yuuri, before supper gets cold!”

.

There was obvious tension between Sara and the Crispino elders, and yet she remained polite and respectful to them no matter how many comments were jabbed about her and Mila’s “friendship”. Yuuri was the only one who could see that they held hands under the table and hid a smile behind his napkin.

“So, Yuuri,” Mr. Crispino, who’d been silent the entire evening, finally spoke towards the end of the dinner. Yuuri was the only one who went for thirds. “Do tell us about Mr. Nikiforov. I haven’t seen him in quite a few weeks now.”

Yuuri nodded, setting down his glass. “He is a tradesman primarily, the store ownership is kind of a side thing, unfortunately.” He doesn’t ignore the look of pity everyone seemed to be giving him. “It’s not too bad, though, he’s going to be home for all of the fall and winter, and he visits. He’ll be home in another few weeks for a spell.”

“I suppose the blooming railroads do help a bit, but  _ still _ ,” Mr. Crispino said, “a man of your… circumstance, should not be living alone with a child. It simply isn’t safe, not even in a quiet town like Independence. You never can be too safe.”

“I know…” Yuuri agreed, “but we have hired help at the store, and he is with us all day. At night I simply lock everything and hope for the best. I know how to shoot.”

The old man chuckled. “Well  _ that’s  _ a relief.”

“Even so, you shouldn’t  _ have  _ to. We say it’s a man’s job to protect his family, so I can’t really stop you, but… for an omega, it’s an  _ alpha _ ’s job to do so.”

 

“Oh,  _ Nonna _ , you’re so old fashioned.” Sara complained. “Times are different now. Omegas will soon fend for themselves. Some already do, and—”   
  
“And those are the ones who operate in those sinful businesses, Sara. We will not argue about this.”

“I don’t have the desire to fight against society’s roles, Mrs. Crispino, but I do know when I need to put them aside, and that’s when it comes to my family’s wellbeing.”

.

That night, after supper and dessert and listening to Mr. Crispino and Mila politely argue in the parlor over gender roles in today's society, Yuuri and Yura were preparing to head out when Yuuri spotted something through the window. Perhaps, a shadow? A person? Did the Crispino’s have servants? But there had definitely been something there, even for a second. 

Even so, remembering how Yuuri had bravely touted the fact that he was willing to protect his family, Yuuri gripped his son’s hand and braved the outside, promising himself that if he’d just hurry along that he’d soon be home and everything would be alright. 

But the further he got down the road, the more often he felt like someone was watching them. He was anxious by nature, but this made everything worse. Was that someone behind them, or walking parallel to them on the sidewalk? Perhaps they were hiding in that alley, there? 

He never went out after dark, ever. Once Phichit closed up shop for the evening, Yuuri locked every door and remained inside until the store opened again in the morning. It wasn't that he was... afraid... it was just precaution. What any decent person would do, right?

 

But tonight, he was afraid. Tonight, for whatever reason, it really did feel like it was more than paranoia bothering him. And there was no way he was going inside the dark store alone and weaponless at this rate.  He went to the stable instead in search of Mr. Chulanont and asked him to escort them into their house, and that he was welcome to stay overnight as Yuuri was certain the loft of a stable wasn’t comfortable. 

Phichit agreed to this, as he’d take any opportunity not to sleep there. 

When they went back outside, Yuuri couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary. He almost hoped they would so that Phichit wouldn't find him crazy. 

Phichit unlocked the main door to their shop and led them inside, locking the door behind them. He searched through stock as Yuuri requested— nothing— and was the first to look around upstairs. The house was as empty as it was when he left, no changes. 

Yuuri thanked him after he checked his bedroom, then shut the door— locking it— and shut the curtains, too. 

Yura was drowsy and confused, but Yuuri simply tucked him in and told him not to worry about anything. 

Yuuri sat down at his desk adjacent to the bed and took out a fresh page to write his response to Victor. But every time he tried to write it, the words just didn't seem to flow right... he didn't know what to say at this point besides _please come home_.

***

_Victor is about five miles from home, somehow. Because last night he was at least thirty, and... despite that, he can see Independence clearly from here. It is morning, and he is alone save for an_ _unfamiliar, rickety wagon about twenty yards away. It is tipped on its side. Victor walks over to investigate, and he finds it empty. Just as he starts to look around for any sign of life or the owner of this wagon, he hears a scream. Suddenly, there are two people— one being held by their bare waist and dragged towards the river, kicking and screaming. The person dragging them has a face that is... blank. There is no face. Victor cannot see their face...! What the hell..._

_"Hey!" He calls, mounting Petunia. But she won't move, despite how hard he kicks her, and the victim is getting closer to the water. "Petunia, go!" He shouts, slamming his fists against her back. "GO!"_

_Petunia stumbles, nearly falling over. "There's no time for this!" So, he abandons his horse and chases after the victim and their attacker. "STOP!"_

_And the attacker does just that. They stop and let go of the victim, but grip onto their wrist so they can't run away._

_Victor catches up to them. To his horror, Yuuri,_ his _Yuuri, is the victim. "Y-"_  
  
_"One word and I'll shoot him." Comes the voice of the attacker. Why is his face so... it's not blurry, it's not dark, there's just absolutely no features. Victor takes a step back in shock._

_Yuuri whimpers, weakly reaching his free hand out to Victor, but the attacker quickly rams the butt of his gun against his wrist, cracking it. "Don't move!"_

_"What do you want from me?" Victor reaches into his pockets; his gold is gone. "I-I'll give you all I have, just don't hurt him. Please."  
_

_"I SAID ONE WORD AND I'LL KILL HIM!" The gun goes off, once, twice........................_

.

_"Yuuri_!" Victor jolted awake, slamming his hand down on the place next to him, momentarily horrified to find it absent.  _I'm not home. I'm not home. It was a dream._ He was soaked in sweat, and his heart pounded. 

After taking a few deep breaths, Victor pushed the hair from his face and reached into his breast pocket to look at the photograph taken last year on Yuuri's birthday. He couldn't see Independence from here, but he would come home today, and make sure Yuuri couldn't possibly forget him. 

He wasn't one to have nightmares. It shook him up for the rest of the day and made the intense longing in his heart even worse.

***

Yuuri turned onto his back, panting after another round of vigorous lovemaking— no partner before had ever been so needy as Victor was after returning home for a few weeks in the early summer. The day he came home, he looked so very solemn, as if someone had died. So serious... 

Victor was clingy, too, and was always nearby if not literally holding onto him. None of this would make up for Victor leaving him again in 3 days. It made him dread the idea of being alone again.

Yuuri wiped himself off with the rag he’d permanently be replacing, he was sure, then pulled up the sheets till they were at his chin.  “If it’s alright with you, I’d like to try that again.”

“Wow…” Victor wiped his mouth, chuckling to himself. “How many times does that make it?”   
  
“I- I lost track, I think.” He admitted. “But I’m still… I mean, I need—”

“I’m beginning to suspect that you are insatiable.” 

“My husband leaves me for weeks at a time, so I develop an intense desire while he is away.” Yuuri shrugged off his nightgown and tosses it onto the ground. It was covered in sweat and other things and needed to be washed, so he couldn't possibly sleep in it, anyway. “One more time.”

“I’m going to give you two words that’s going to change your insatiable lifestyle forever.” To increase suspense, Victor took a swig from his bottle of vodka beside him, eyeing Yuuri the entire time.

“Well…? What is it?”

“Sex toys.”

“You’re out of your damn  _ mind _ !” Yuuri blushed, hiding his face in the sheets. Sex toys were strictly for medical use, and anyone caught with them that was  _ married… _ why, that’d be a sure sign that the marriage was failing, or that they’re just a  _ whore _ , and… 

“I am not. I’ll be gone until September, won’t I? And I don’t want you to be miserable the whole time. Tell me, what did you do before, when whoever you were dating wasn’t around to please you?”

He pinched his lips together. “Um… I just… I waited for them, I guess.” In reality, there was rarely a time he was left in that state. And if he was, he’d simply find someone else to please his needs in the meantime, if it got that bad.

“Look, darling,” Victor leaned in close to whisper to him, “I know there’s a lot of stigma around these types of things, but no one has to know but me and you. Guys do it all the time. What are you afraid of?”

Yuuri wanted to lash out at him for bringing up something like this, but he realized that Victor probably didn’t understand what he was going through, at all. He probably got his needs satisfied by young ladies on the trail because no one was around to tell him otherwise. He  _ may _ have been a virgin a few weeks ago, but virgins can still get their needs satisfied. And Yuuri was trying to stop reminding himself of that idea. 

“Well…?”

“Victor, I should not have to find ways to pleasure myself. That’s  _ your _ job as my husband.” He shifted onto his side and pulled Victor close to him. “Take me with you, just this once. We can go to Fort Laramie together, and I can meet your brother, and I won’t bother you again about going, I promise…”

“I’m sorry, Yuuri, but you know why we can’t do that. But, don’t worry. September will be here before we know it, and then you and I can go someplace together, just me and you.”

“But… September is so far away…”

***

By July, his longing had been bothering him long enough, and simply imagining wasn’t cutting it anymore. Victor wasn’t coming home until  _ October,  _ now, thanks to a brief illness that slowed him down somewhere in Nebraska which meant another _three months_  of abstinence. Three months without the pleasure of Victor’s warm, elongated cock buried deep in his guts—

Goddamn, where the hell did _that_ thought come from?

Yura was taking a nap upstairs; he had a cold and wasn’t particularly agreeable. Phichit was out on his lunch break.

He would have at least a half hour to himself, and…

Fuck, he shouldn’t have to do this. Normal wives and omegas could simply approach their spouses with this need and find themselves sinking into their sheets getting fucked senseless a minute later. Yuuri had to wait three months.  _Damn_ , every time he thought of how long it would be until Victor came back, it physically hurt his heart.  And right now, he was  _ itching _ for that damn sensation and couldn’t wait any longer.

He locked himself in the outhouse.

Yuuri slid his trousers down until they sat at his feet, and his underwear went with them. He folded both to sit on the platform beside the toilet and lifted his leg to rest there.  _ I shouldn’t have to do this. Fuck Victor for choosing his career over me.  _

Would things be different now, he wondered, if he’d never responded to that ad in the first place? Would he have responded to a different man’s plea, one that worked nearby, or perhaps accepted a marriage proposal from some man settling in the west?

He surely wouldn’t feel as alone as he did at that moment, fingering himself in a fucking outhouse while his husband was somewhere in Wyoming. It was so degrading, so  _ sinful _ , it made him think of stories he was told at his sister’s inn by runaways who were escaping their families to achieve sexual liberation. 

And while Yuuri might have had the same ideas as them once, that was in a different time. He didn’t want  _ liberation _ , he wanted to be claimed and taken by the same man for the rest of his life. 

The man who swore he loved Yuuri, but could not be bothered to stick around no matter how upset his departure made him. Like he didn’t even care. 

Great, Yuuri was crying again, reaching his climax and feeling so angry at the same time for reaching it. He looked like a mad fool and couldn't help laughing at himself and his predicament, shaking his head, and crying.

_But what can I do about it? What_ can  _I do?_

.

By September, Yuuri had essentially lost his logic. Every letter to Victor started and finished with how much he wanted him to come home, but Victor's responses weren't nearly the same. Sure, they all mentioned missing him, too, but it didn't read with the same longing as Yuuri's letters did. 

Last letter, Yuuri wrote quite an intimate confession on the page. He talked about sexual desires and things he thought about Victor. And.. he'd yet to get a reply.

So he was embarrassed, hungry, restless for an answer, and, on a particular night in September, a bit drunk. 

Yuuri sat on the bottom of the stairs, watching their employee close up shop for the day. He was always quiet around Yuuri, yet so chatty around everyone else, and he had yet to figure out why. "You know what I think, Phichit?"

"What do you think, Mr. Nikiforov?"  
  
"First of all, call me Yuuri." Yuuri, hips swinging a bit more than usual, moved to the counter and rested his hand against it. "I think you have a crush on me."

Phichit did not look up from the register, did not blush, he did nothing to confirm Yuuri's suspicions. " _Really_ , what makes you think that?"

"Why else do you act so strangely around me?" Yuuri smiled. "It's okay if you do like me, you wouldn't be the first. And I won't tell Victor about it if you'd like to admit it."

"Come on, Yuuri, don't talk like this." His voice was stern, and his expression soured when he saw that Yuuri had been drinking. "You should go up to bed before you do something you'll regret over just wanting some attention."

"Want to know what I regret?" 

In the future, Yuuri will answer that question with exactly what he did that night, but he was oblivious. He had no idea that Victor had actually come in through the storage room's door and was waiting to surprise him, since he wasn't due back for another week.

"I regret coming here. I wish I never came. I wish I never married such as selfish man as Victor Nikiforov. I hate him."

Victor's eyes widened, but he decided not to make his presence known.

"Oh, Yuuri, I know you don't mean that."

"I don't know what I mean and don't mean anymore, Phichit. I don't think I can keep living like this; I am so lonely. I wish he'd take me away from here, but.. but I know he never will. Because this business, who he was  _before_... that means more to him than I do. And admittedly, it's my fault for being such a terrible person to begin with and being selfish enough to expect more than I have been given. But terrible or not, I still long for what I can't have... just to be with him."

"Why don't you tell him these things, Yuuri?"

"You can't expect me to have the strength to do that, Phichit, I'm terrible with words. I haven't even told him that I love him yet, even though I do."

***

After a night of drinking and contemplation, Victor officially came home in the afternoon, though not to stay for long. He told Yuuri and their son to pack quickly; they were going on vacation to St. Louis. Sure, he didn't know exactly  _where_ in St. Louis they should go, but he had a vague enough idea and understood the urgency that Yuuri needed to go someplace fun before he decided to leave his husband.

Yuuri was quite excited to finally leave Independence; it had been a year and a half since he'd arrived and not once had he gone anyplace else. They went to their nearest station that evening and boarded the train for St. Louis. 

Victor couldn't get Yuuri's words off his mind; how miserable he was. And despite knowing the logical thing to do (moving them to someplace Yuuri was happy with) his stubbornness still got the better of them. He  _knew_ that they'd return to Independence sooner or later, whether Yuuri liked it or not. The city wasn't for him. If Victor wanted to continue living in an urban area, he would've stayed in Russia. But he came here for a life that Yuuri could not stand, and that made it difficult to make a decision.

For the first two days in St. Louis, the trio stayed in a hotel overlooking the Mississippi. On the second day, they took a fine carriage and toured the area, though Victor's intention was to find someplace for them to stay semi-permanently. While his family was marveling over the Basilica of St. Louis, Victor was eyeing a row of townhomes farther down the road. And that evening, when Yuuri bathed in the heated waters of their hotel room and Yura napped, Victor approached a landlady about renting one of the townhomes.

Yuuri was thrilled.

The house was about the same size as their own back home, but it was very cozy and spacious and dramatically lifted Yuuri's mood the moment he set foot in the parlor. Their neighbors were kind, he could see the river from the attic window, and there was a lovely primary school not too far away from them. To Yuuri, this was the perfect place to call home,  _permanently_ , and he had no idea that Victor did not intend on keeping them there for as long as he thought. Why would he think that, especially since Victor invited Yuuri's sister to stay with them over the holidays as a surprise for Yuuri's birthday?

It was surreal, being with someone from his family again. He missed her so terribly, and was surprised to see how big her son had gotten. He started walking before she left.

("So.. how has it been... how has it  _really_ been here, Yuuri..." Mari asked on her last night in St. Louis. They had taken a river boat that afternoon as a grand finale and both had napped for a while after the excitement of the day. Now that it was late, it was just the two of them sitting in Yuuri's parlor, and Yuuri missed her already, despite her not leaving yet.

"St. Louis is lovely, I like it here very much." Yuuri responded.

"That's fine and all, but I meant Independence." 

That sent dread to the pit of Yuuri's stomach. "I don't like it there. I mean, it's not Victor's fault, of course. Well, it is partly. But I just don't like being so alone. I used to wish to live in a place where no one knew me, but I feel quite differently now."

"Then come back to Delaware." She took his hand, and their eyes met. "Mom and Dad miss you so much, and they feel terrible for what happened before you left. There's plenty of room in their house for you— for all of you, really— and Dad could find Victor a job..."  
  
"As lovely as that sounds, I don't think I could ever return. You know what people think of me there, and why Mom and Dad turned me away...?"  
  
"Yes, but—"

"Victor doesn't."

" _Yuuri_.Why on earth not?!" She hissed. 

"I started a new life here, and.. I don't think he needs to know."

"I suppose he doesn't want children, then."  
  
"We haven't talked about it."

.

It was a sad morning when Mari left, but Yuuri knew he could see her again, and even mentioned the possibility of visiting his parents that summer, though he knew it was unlikely. 

Things were fine and dandy for a good week after Mari left. They'd gotten a snowstorm and spent most of their time indoors, save for when they went out to watch Yura play in the snow. At the end of the week, after Victor and Yuuri cleaned up supper, Yuuri decided to bring something up with Victor that would seal the deal with them staying in St. Louis, as suggested by his sister at one point a few weeks back.

"Victor." Yuuri set down the dish rag on the counter and turned to his husband, who was putting away the last of the dishes in the cupboard. 

"Yes, love?" Victor hummed to himself, closing the cupboard door. He sat at the kitchen table and crossed his ankles.

"Do you want children of your own?"

"We have Yura, don't we?" Victor said, without missing a beat.

Yuuri nodded, but he tried to hide his annoyed reaction to the answer he was given. "Yes, we do, and he's wonderful, but that's not what I meant. I meant... do you want to have children with  _me_?"

"Oh...  _oh_ , well... I mean, maybe? Now's not exactly the best time." Victor's cheeks appeared to turn pink.

"Why not?" Yuuri rested his palms against the table, leaning in close to him. "We live here now, and it's a perfect place for us to have a baby, don't you think?"

"Wait, what?" Victor blinked. "We don't  _live_ here. I thought you knew... we're going back to Independence next week...?"

Yuuri's heart stopped.

"I thought we went over this...? When I bought our tickets, I said it'd be nice to spend the winter here, and... are you crying? Yuuri...?"

***

It was a quiet evening in their cabin for a change. Victor played checkers with their son and was getting beat for the eleventh time, but he didn’t mind it as he enjoyed watching Yura’s face light up each time he did. 

The only person who didn’t seem to be enjoying himself was Yuuri, but that was to be expected as he had been in a sour mood since the moment they stepped onto the train last night. He liked the St. Louis townhome and the environment there and didn’t want to return to dusty Independence. Victor knew that, but... there wasn't much to do about it. As lovely as Yuuri found St. Louis, Victor knew that they couldn't afford to move there just yet, and if he really wanted to move someplace else, Victor wanted a house built that was much better than any silly old townhome. 

Because they would probably be home tomorrow at some point, Yuuri's mood dropped to an all-time-low. And when Victor noticed him quietly crying, he was a bit annoyed, to say the least. Yuuri had such a glass heart, honestly. He cried way too much to still have tears left in him. Regardless, every time Yuuri cried, it sent a shot of pain through his chest and he had no choice but to gather him up into his arms and smother him in kisses, asking him what’s wrong.

But that evening, he knew exactly what was wrong and did not feel like doing all the comforting, even though he wanted to take all Yuuri's unhappiness away… 

“Yuuri, what is the matter?” He set down the checkerpiece and moved to sit with Yuuri by the window. 

He stared out stubbornly. “Our townhome was so lovely.”   
  
“Yes, it was.”

“And you could have gotten a job with that company down the road, remember? They really liked you.”   
  
“It wouldn’t have paid as much as my current career.”   
  
“I liked it there. They had schools… he could go to school and get a proper education there. We visited Laclede Primary school together one day, and—”

“What’s wrong with you teaching him?”

Yuuri sighed sadly. “You just don’t understand, do you? Or maybe you don’t care to understand.”

“Of  _ course _ I understand, Yuuri, but you know we can’t just live there permanently with everything we own being back home. And besides, I’m not about to abandon my business permanently to live in a stuffy city.”

“Well I  _ hate _ it at the store. I  _ hate living in Independence. _ ”

“You’re the one that agreed to come here, so it’s not really my problem of you don’t like it, Yuuri.”

“Victor—”

“I didn’t ask you to marry me so quickly, that was your decision, too. If you had stayed longer, perhaps you would’ve understood how much you hate Missouri and would never have been trapped in this miserable situation. What do you think I can do about this?” 

Yuuri sniffed, pushing Victor away. “I’m going outside.” 

“Maybe come back with a different attitude.” Victor muttered.

Yuuri pushed open the doors and stormed out onto the back of the train’s viewing area. The cold, night air bit at his skin, but he didn’t care. He watched as the front of the train started to make its way over the first of several sharp curves. The train swayed uneasily around it. “I hate this land. I wish I never came here.” He said to no one, but he still felt guilty for saying it. He couldn't believe that Victor was so insensitive and didn't care to keep him where he was happy. He thought... he thought Victor was happy in St. Louis, too. But obviously not, and that was the biggest difference between himself and Victor. For Yuuri truly hated the farmland and prairie that Victor seemed to love with his entire heart. “God, get me out of here." Yuuri said to the sky, then squeezed his eyes shut as tears slipped down his cheeks. "Get me out of h—” 

.

It was the loudest noise he’s ever heard, and it happened so suddenly. It started with a high pitched scraping sound, and Yuuri feeling himself being slammed onto the railing keeping him from falling off the train... 

It didn't hold him for long.

Seconds later he felt himself scraping against rocks... soil... body crushed against the rough bark of a tree. Still, that wasn't the loudest sounds.

It was when the train completely toppled over on the last sharp turn and tumbled off the tracks that shocked his ears. 

He heard nothing but ringing after that, and saw nothing as the world was submerged in darkness...

.

The engine managed to stay on the tracks for a few moments, on its side, but the back pieces, save for the caboose, tumbled down the hill first so that the train made a large U, and quickly, the middle and back broke off. Several pieces of the middle rolled all the way into the river below them at the bottom of a steep hill, and then everything was quiet.

.

_ What... what _ _happened_...?

Yuuri's ears rang for a long time, but he could still faintly hear people… where... he wasn't sure....

...so there were survivors, but… 

The screams made him wish he couldn't hear at all........ 

Yuuri just held onto the tree he’d fallen onto and closed his eyes, trying to make sense of things. _Something.... something happened... something bad....._

_ was it the train.........? _

_ Did the train... fall off the tracks...? _

_ Did it derail? _

.... _Am I still alive_....?  _Victor... where's Victor..._?

_.......Where am I? _

.

“Name?”

“Victor Nikiforov, but I—”

“And him?”

“Yuri Plisetsky.” 

“Got it. Now if you’ll please stand with the others over there, sir—”   
  
“May I see your list, please? I’m looking for someone.”   
  
“If they’re alive, they’ll be over there.” The man said firmly. 

It was chaos. Crying children, what sounded like a million voices, some shouting, some calling names of loved ones, and some probably unsure of what they were even saying. There were sixty passengers on the train, and it seemed that so far at least twelve were confirmed dead, but Victor was certain there would be far more confirmed come morning when the officials and local townspeople could get a better look at the damage. There was too much to process at the moment. Victor had no time to feel the despair in his heart. No time to stop and search for Yuuri’s body, because —upon combing through the crowd of equally disoriented people, all in their pajamas, some soaking wet and some blood stained— he learned that Yuuri was not among them. 

Poor Yuuri was so miserable, all he wanted was to stay in St. Louis. He seemed to do so well there; he was thriving in a way he never had in Independence. And now he was dead at the bottom of the river. Or somewhere on these hills… wearing that silk robe despite how it clashed his thick cotton nightgown just because it was all he had from home; he missed his family so much…

Victor sunk to the ground beneath a large oak tree, strength all but gone. Yura crawled into his lap. He was crying too, but this time Victor assumed it wasn’t about his disfigured arm; it’d long since gone numb. 

He gazed up at the sky, at the glistening stars illuminating this tragic scene before them. He wondered if Yuuri could see the stars from under the water, or wherever he was. What he thought of while he watched his world turn to dark.

Victor thought of his journey to the United States. He wasn’t much older than Yura when he and his parents got turned away on Ellis Island because of Victor’s cough. They could’ve gone on without him, but all four of them returned to Russia for the next six years until his father earned enough money to return.

He remembered how lonely, how _guilty_ , he felt on that ship returning home. Just like now. Being in an unfamiliar place, looking up at the sky and knowing that he was the reason someone else had to suffer… over something that could have been prevented had he just listened.

.

Yuuri woke up again when he was lifted into a quiet wagon. It wasn't quite morning. There were other people inside the wagon, none of them being his family, but regardless he was confused by the silence. And why people didn’t mind strangers resting on them. Why some of their eyes were open, but they did not blink. 

“W-What’s going on…? Where are we going?” He rasped, though he doubted he could hear any of them from the continuous ringing in his ears. “Have any of you seen a… a Victor Nikiforov?”   
  
Two people are looking at him, but they do not move. 

“Because I..” Yuuri swallowed the lump burning in his throat. “Something terrible happened, back on the tracks...” He said in a sing-song voice, “and I don’t know if it’s  _ best _ to tell him, given the circumstances.” Yuuri smiled, but it pained him to do so, and it didn’t take long for his face to scrunch up. He was so tired… “I-I keep many things from him, isn’t that awful of me?” He sniffles. “But this time, he’ll be so angry… hah…”

“Did you say something, Johnny?” Comes the voice of Yuuri’s driver, startling him and no one else.

“What? Of course I didn’t. I hate your ass for making me come along, I’m not talking to you.” The driver had a passenger up front, too. They both sounded tired.

“Well I could’ve sworn I heard someone talking back there.” He felt the wagon come to a stop. 

“You’re out of your goddamn mind if you think I’m going back there to check on all them dead folks.”   
  
_ Dead… _ ?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: After a hellish experience neither of them could have ever predicted, far worse is on the way.  
> Or: Yuuri finally gets to see what it's like following Victor across the midwest. And finally, finally, finally... tells him everything. 
> 
> ***
> 
> SO. Yeah, this early part of the summer has been disastrous for me, but I haven't given up on this fic yet, nor have I on my others. Please be patient, they will be updated in time. 
> 
> Tumblr is deleted, I'm not sure if I will ever bring it back, unfortunately. I know this will impact just how many people discover this fic, but I guess it's a price I'm willing to pay at this point. Thank you all for reading, and I'll see you next time. :)
> 
> 6/23/18— still working on the next chapter, patience is greatly appreciated!


	6. Chapter Five

January, 1860 

Fort Kearney, Nebraska 

 

“Just because he asks for help doesn’t mean we have to give it to him.” Yuuri handed his husband back the letter from Victor’s brother, who was currently living in Fort Laramie. “He can move his business. Go all the way to Oregon. You don’t have to do everything for him.” They had only gone here to post a letter, but now that Victor had been surprised with a request from his struggling brother a state over, it soiled Yuuri's day. He'd only met Victor's brother once. He was kind enough, but not as kind or as handsome as Victor. He was older by quite a few years and had balding, dark hair, which was so much different than Victor's light hair that sometimes Yuuri wondered if they were only half siblings, being that both Mr. and Mrs. Nikiforov had blonde hair.

But anyway.

“If _your_ sister wrote to you asking for financial assistance, I know you’d do anything in your power to help her.” Victor tucked the letter into his coat pocket, and the two of them exited the post station together. The air smelled like a burning fire in in someone's warm kitchen, which made Yuuri think about snow, and how cold it was here without that additional nuisance. “If I go in March, I could be back by May.”

“Victor, _no_ . It is _not safe_ , and… we don’t have that kind of money laying around. It’s one thing if you invited them to stay with us. But you’re going to give them five hundred dollars— the only five hundred we _have_ , _and_ stay away for several months, when you _promised_ that you’d take us east for a vacation—” Yuuri had to walk quickly to keep up with Victor's long strides.  _If I wasn't wearing so many layers I_ _could_ _catch up without panting and gasping like a fool,_ Yuuri thought as he hiked up the heavy skirts to prevent himself from tripping (again). "You promised me..."

“Not everything is about _you_ , Yuuri.”

Yuuri looked dejected and slumped his shoulders, refusing to take another step. They were in the middle of the fort where Yuuri's predicted upcoming outburst would most definitely make a scene. Victor smiled wryly. “What a mood you’ve been in today. I thought you liked our days at the fort.”

“Well I’m sorry for not being a continuous ray of sunshine," Yuuri flailed his arms, "especially right now after you’ve just ruined our plans. I've been looking forward to this for months.”  
  
“Hey, I haven’t confirmed if I’m going yet.”

“I know that look in your eyes, Victor, you’re going.” Yuuri frowned, “It’s hard enough to make ends meet out here. I’m tired of dried fruit, dried vegetables, dried everything. I want fresh produce. And meat.” He complained as he eventually followed Victor back to their cart outside the fort, his outburst kept at bay for now. “And anyplace we go on vacation has those things.”

Victor stopped and pointed out to the open prairie. “Well, do you see any game?”  
  
“Kill one of the chickens. I’m fucking _starving_ for something that isn’t canned or dried…”

He tilted his head to the side. “Are you feeling alright?”

“No, no I am not. Get me something to eat before I lose it.” Yuuri climbed into the cart, tapping his foot impatiently until Victor drove them away. "Five hundred dollars... imagine!"

.

_To Mr. Victor Nikiforov_

_I am writing to inform you that the construction of your home in the western part of Virginia is nearing completion. However, the previous price of two thousand, two hundred dollars has proven to be a bit under what is required for my company to complete the rest of the project. We must respectfully request an additional five hundred dollars to ensure that your future home is of perfection and does not have any errors in construction. Along with landscaping, painting and decorating as well as the off-home buildings, we estimate that your home shall be completed— if the five hundred dollars is delivered— by September of this year._

_Regards,_

_D.L.E Construction_

_._

And while the fresh poultry and boiled potatoes for dinner temporarily sated Yuuri’s appetite and attitude, it didn’t take long for the arguing to resume the moment Victor sat down at the cleared table to write a response to his "brother". It was difficult, keeping this kind of secret from Yuuri, but he knew that the surprise would be incredibly worth it and couldn't wait to show him the house. Though, before he would even think about showing him, Victor wanted to make the trip to Virginia himself to make sure that the home was just as he envisioned it to be.

“Tell him you won’t give him a dime and your schedule is completely booked for the rest of the year.” Yuuri looked over his shoulder at the paper, but Victor was quick to cover it with his sleeve.  
  
“I’m not telling him that.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I could give him three hundred.”

“That’s _our_ money, Victor!" Yuuri cried, smacking his hands down on the table beside him. It shook the ink, almost spilling it. "Why the hell can’t he ask someone else?!”  
  
“He’s my brother! What, you think I should just ignore him in his time of need?” He pushed his seat back from the table— it banged against the wall— “Seriously, Yuuri, I don’t know _what’s_ gotten into you.”

“Something has to be wrong with me for me to be pissed that you hold your brother in higher regard than your husband of nearly five years!?” Yuuri shoved Victor back into the wall and then surprised him by hugged him fiercely. “I’m so tired of having to let you go! I’m so tired…” And then he was crying as quickly as he had become angry. _Lord, give me patience. Give me strength._

_It'll all be worth it once he sees the house, and all of this will be put behind us._

"You work too hard, Yuuri, of course you're tired... no one should have the kind of pressure that you do on their shoulders." He pulled back, just enough so that he could kiss his husband (who  _really did_ need that vacation). "I'll do the washing up tonight. Why don't you go on to bed?" 

Yuuri shrugged, sinking his head back into Victor's shoulder, "Not without you, though. I'm having trouble sleeping alone as of recent."

"Then I won't stray from your side."

Victor took Yuuri to bed in their downstairs room, as their son was staying with his best friend that weekend as reward for doing all his chores without complaint and so on… (bribes worked wonders) Yuuri was quite tired, but Victor knew he wouldn't sleep until his suspicions were confirmed or put to rest. 

“I won’t go see him yet. I’ll respond and we’ll negotiate. I won’t go anywhere…” Victor said softly, stroking Yuuri’s hair while he held him close. “I’m not going anywhere. And we'll go on that vacation."

Yuuri formed the tiniest of smiles as his eyes slid shut. "Okay. Goodnight. Love you."

Not long after Yuuri had fallen asleep, Victor got up to make sure all the doors were locked and curtains shut. On his way back into the bedroom, he was startled to see that the window was partly open, even though it had been closed since last month…

Yuuri was clearly asleep and wouldn't have gotten up to open a window. He didn't sleepwalk, either, so that meant...

Victor hurriedly sifted through one of the kitchen drawers for his handgun, and the moment he felt it in his hand, he bolted for the front door. To his horror, once he rounded the corner on the side of the house, he found a person attempting to climb inside!

" _Hey_!"

The second the stranger caught sight of Victor, he made a run for it, but Victor was quick to follow him. He caught the stranger before they could even make it to the barn, 50 feet away. It was like a switched flipped in him; he ran faster than he ever thought he was capable of and he was more than willing to kill this person on the spot, even though he didn’t know their intentions. Gee, maybe it wasn’t Yuuri with the problem. Or maybe they both had one.

The stranger was struggling to get onto his feet, but Victor held him face down in the dirt of their yard. He didn’t even say anything to the stranger, either. Because talking to him meant hearing something back and if this fucker _dared_ to say anything about—

And then, the stranger started to laugh. They laughed like this entire situation was hilarious and they weren’t about to get their throat slashed. “D-Damn…” They wheezed from the amount of laughter (and perhaps running in the icy cold air), “you… you really _are_ protective of him, aren’t you?”

Victor scowled. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“If you let me up, I’ll tell you.”  
  
“Not a chance.”

They sighed. “All these years of observation and missed chances and chasing and I get taken down by you so quickly. Every time I’ve seen you before, you were never on the edge like this…”  
  
“How many times have you tried to break into my fucking house?”  
  
“Eh… this is the second time. Last time, you weren’t even there.”  
  
Victor pushed their face further into the dirt. “And where was I, you fucking stalker?”  
  
“Let’s see… it was 1856 and I believe Yuuri said to Mr. and Mrs. Crispino that you were away… but planning on coming back for a few weeks before you left again? And then Mrs. Crispino said to him—”  
  
“ _What the fuck is wrong with you_?!”

The stranger used his free arm and elbowed Victor in the gut. Given his moment of surprise, the stranger sprung to their feet. He pulled out a gun before Victor could stand. “Don’t you know who I am?”

“You better not be who I think you are.” Victor panted, and he was slow to get up.

“Or else what? What are you going to do if I, say… go in that house and fuck the _shit_ out of Yuuri Katsuki?”  
  
“I’ll kill you.”  
  
“I’d like to see you try.” They whispered and motioned for Victor to get up. “Let’s go for a walk, sir. I think we should get to know each other a little better. For starters, my name is—”

.

When Yuuri woke up the following morning, he was disappointed to find himself alone. The window was open a tad, and he made a mental note to scold Victor and his strangely overheated-in-the-middle-of-the-winter self. As he went to close it, still bleary eyed and vision impaired as he’d left his glasses in the kitchen, he was surprised to see Victor up so early, at the chopping block when they already had more than enough wood in the house. Confused, Yuuri blindly felt his way into the kitchen, put on his glasses, shoes, and a wrap, and met Victor in the yard.

He had cut several dozen pieces of wood and was repeatedly cutting the current piece into nothing more than tiny chips. His clothes were dirty and seemed damp. He tapped Victor’s shoulder and noticed how he flinched. “Victor?”

“Oh, you scared me, Yuuri.” Victor said flatly, swinging the ax again. Yuuri stepped back to avoid getting hit, as Victor made no warning before he swung it and the ax could very well have hurt him.

“Victor, um… there isn’t anything left of that log.”

“There is… oh, you’re right. Hah… I guess I wasn’t paying attention.” Victor set the ax down and removed his gloves to rub his eyes. Yuuri held his arm, though he felt too afraid to look at his husband's face, being that his voice sounded so different...

“Are you okay?”  
  
“Yeah. Just… have a lot on my mind right now.” Victor wouldn’t look at him, either.

“Hey.” Yuuri was starting to feel frightened at Victor’s state, and he wasn’t the only one that seemed to feel that way. Victor was trembling. “Um, how about we go inside? It’s so cold out here.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.” Victor followed Yuuri’s lead— who never actually let go of his arm— into the house. Yuuri's chest felt empty and the insecure part of himself— the area that held his most ridiculous fears— told him that there was no way of predicting what might come from Victor's strange behavior. Victor could run back to the chopping block to get his ax and take Yuuri's  _head_ off with it at this point.

“Do you want a bath? How long were you out there, anyway? It's freezing. Didn't Jesse Parker warn you about that sort of thing? Calling yourself Russian doesn't prevent you from getting frostbite." Victor recognized this sort of chattering; it's what Yuuri did when he was nervous. What had he to be nervous for? It wasn't like Victor had murdered  _him_ last night......

"Victor." Yuuri tried again. They were standing at the front door. (Well, more accurately, it was only Victor that stood there, Yuuri was already inside. He had just been standing there, blank, for God knows how long.)

Victor arched his back to stretch and then smiled. “A bath? That’d be nice.” He didn't realize that he hadn't responded to most of Yuuri's words, which only worried his poor husband further. Yuuri's face was turning pale.

“I-I’ll start breakfast, too.”

.

Yuuri watched his husband out of the corner of his eye while he finished eating breakfast. Victor seemed a little bit calmer than he was before, but something was definitely off about him; how quiet he was, the way he stared off into space. And what was worse was that Yuuri had put breakfast on the table ten minutes ago, announced it to Victor and everything, but he was still the only one eating. The water couldn't have been very warm anymore, and Victor wasn't even washing. 

_Is it my fault?_

“Uh…” Yuuri set down his fork another five minutes later once he grew too anxious to watch Victor's blank expression a moment longer. “You… you can go see your brother, if you want. I know it’s something important to you. I’m sorry that I reacted that way. It’s just… recently I have been feeling really paranoid?”  
  
“How so?” Victor stared at his knees.  _Look at me, Victor..._

“Like… it sounds silly to talk about, but like someone’s watching me? Especially when you’re not home. Perhaps it is just my anxiety, I’m sure that’s all it is… but it’s unsettling.”

Victor finally met his eyes, so Yuuri assumed something he had said finally broke through to him. “My dearest heart… I love you so much.” He stood and within a second was hugging Yuuri, sopping wet and dripping onto the floor. “I love you… no one’s ever going to hurt you, alright? You’re safe now…”

.

 

“You owe me big time for this, Nikiforov,” Christophe huffed as he lifted the tail end of the deceased stranger Victor had come pounding on his door with at nearly midnight, begging for assistance. He wanted to refuse, being that Victor pretty much ruined his life (even if it was unintentional) but Victor was desperate and he didn’t want anyone to see the body laying around. So he put on some clothes over his long johns and loaned Victor his cart for the deed.

The two men rode in silence for quite some time— far off the trail in case anyone came that way for hunting and stumbled upon the grave— until Chris’ curiosity got the better of him. “So, what happened? Trade gone wrong?”

“You know I wouldn’t kill someone over anything like that. Or anyone for _any_ reason. This man, though… honest to God he deserved it.” Victor’s hands shook while he clutched the reins. “He hurt my Yuuri, and he was going to do it again. Right in front of me. I had no choice. He’s been following us for five years.”  
  
“Well, the fella definitely had some time on his hands.” Chris grinned. “Are you going to tell Yuuri?”

“Would you have told Lara?”  
  
“She would have been able to sense it without me saying anything. That woman was like… I don’t know, it was like she had a sixth sense.”

“Well, I’m never telling Yuuri about this.”

* * *

 

***  


January, 1857

Lone Jack, Missouri

 

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Yuuri looked around the small town that had decided to shelter the survivors of the terrible derailed train. This wasn’t the first time a train had derailed, and wouldn’t be the last, he was sure. His arm hurt… a lot, as did his shoulder and his head and… pretty much everything inside and out…..

His only comfort was knowing that Victor and Yura weren’t among the dead in the wagon he’d ridden in earlier. That wasn't much, because they were probably dead on the bottom of the river if he wasn't going to find them here, but it was something. 

If they were dead, the most upsetting part wouldn't even be that he was alone. No, it was because he actually loved both of them dearly and didn't want to be away from them. And if they both died, yes, Yuuri would be alone once more, but he would be missing his family, everything he had, his _life_ , which was far worse than normal lonesomeness. 

“What’s your name, sweetie?” Next thing he knew, he was sitting by a church, and the pastor’s wife was the first to help him out of the wagon. He was unsteady on his feet and had no idea of his physical appearance at the moment, but judging by some onlookers’ expressions, it wasn’t good. He felt very out-of-sorts at the moment, so it took him a few seconds to actually process that he was spoken to by the pastor's wife and to acknowledge her.

And his damn ears… he wished they’d stop ringing.

“Can you hear me?” She asked, hand on Yuuri’s shoulder. He winced at the contact. 

Yuuri covered his ears in attempts to block out the ringing, but it didn’t help. It was persistent and caused his head to ache... he wanted that to stop more than any of the other pain he was in.

But the pastor’s wife waited expectantly for his response, so Yuuri cleared his throat and spoke the only thing on his mind when he was ready, “I don’t know where I am, I want to go home…” _Now, where’s home?_ He wonders. It’s not St. Louis anymore, and Independence makes him so frustrated… well, he supposed home was wherever he could be with Victor, all the time. Independence wouldn't be so bad if he had a full time husband to live with. So yes, he supposed he actually wanted to go home to Independence, but something told him that he was quite far from there.

“And you will, dear, just tell me your name.” The woman took Yuuri's hand and squeezed it gently. "Are you alright?"

“I-I don’t know where I am… I don’t know what’s going on… did I… where are they...?” Later on, he will think that his ramblings must’ve sounded so embarrassing, but today they were earnest. Everywhere, he could see faces he didn't recognize, not even from the train, all talking and looking at him and their voices were distorted. He was quickly becoming overwhelmed. " _Where am I_?" 

Fortunately, the pastor's wife didn't seem fazed by Yuuri's sudden raised voice in the slightest, and she continued to upkeep her kindness. “You’re in Long Jack, Missouri, honey. Everything’s going to be alright, you’ll see…" She then whispered behind her hand, "Please take him to Dr. Ossler at once."  
  
"D-Don't call me that." Yuuri said to no one in particular as another set of women led him down a path to who he assumed was Dr. Ossler.

.

“Yuuri. My name is Yuuri.” Yuuri said after he was sponged off by a nurse. The old doctor was hard enough at work, tending to his wounds, so he was thankful for the assistance.

 He stared down at a bowl of water that had turned pink from the blood on the sponge. Blood had dried around his ears, his side was scraped terribly and he needed six stitches. And his head felt strange.

Dr. Ossler said it was called a concussion not long after Yuuri came into his office.

"Finally." The nurse mumbled under her breath, scribbling something down onto her clipboard. “ _Yuuuuuri_. Can we get a last name?” 

Yuuri’s eyes widened after she asked, and he instinctively reached for his ring finger grasping it until he felt his wedding ring. It had been in plain sight all along, but he hadn't thought to check before that. “Oh, thank God, it didn’t fall off.” He closed his eyes.  _Will I need this anymore, after today? What will I do with myself? I can't go back to Dover—_

“So you’re married. Was your husband or wife traveling with you?” Dr. Ossler had a heavy accent, Yuuri noticed as he spoke— surely he must've said something to him before now, but he couldn't remember—  and he focused only on his voice as the doctor finished the last of the stitches on his shoulder. "There we go."

Yuuri nodded. “We were um... on a train going to Independence, that's where we live. The train crashed, I think, and...I’m… not sure where he is. You see, we had just gotten into an argument and I stepped outside for some air. I’m afraid he’s died and hasn’t been found…”

“Well, if you give us a _last name_ , we can find that out for you.” The nurse said in an exasperated tone, for which the doctor chided her for. "You act like you've never seen a patient with a concussion before, Ms. Diane."

"Last name." She repeated firmly, tapping her pen against the board.

Yuuri swallowed, watching the doctor wrap up his shoulder. “Nikiforov.”

“Oh, you’re gonna have to spell that for me, sweetie.”

“Uh… okay… um.....N... i, k, i...f...?—”  
  
“Victor?”

“Yes… yes that's him." He sprung to his feet, startling both the nurse and doctor, "Tell me, is he—”

“He’s here.”

That was all he needed to know. Yuuri closed his eyes again for a moment, taking a chance to process that he was okay and thank God for that fact. “Yuri Plisetsky. Is he okay, too?”

“I do see a Plisetsky on here, so I would assume— hey!” Yuuri made a run for the door the moment those words escaped her lips, disappearing down the hall before the nurse started to follow. “We weren’t done with you, young man, come back here!"

.

_I’ll go back to Independence if he stays with me. I don’t mind the house that much, I don’t. And maybe… maybe it wouldn’t be so bad there if only our relationship didn’t seem so awkward. If we could spend more time together, if I could trust him, maybe…_

_I do love him. I honestly do. And I’m afraid of loving him because… because I’m afraid that the supposed love he feels for me isn’t as strong as I need it to be. If he really loves me he would never have taken us on that train in the first place, right? What is so important about stupid Independence, the work he does there, and the stupid store? Why can’t we just live somewhere else and actually be happy?_

_I’m not the only one whose husband has a demanding career like this, so why am I the only one so miserable about it? What’s missing, between Victor and me?_

_Maybe I just don’t trust him enough. If I did and I told him everything, maybe that would make things better._

_I should tell him._

_I- I'll tell him everything! As soon as I see him, I'll!_

.

Just as Yuuri pulled open the heavy front door and started to walk through, he was stopped by bumping into someone who’d been trying to come inside at the same time. “S-sorry,” He said, eyes down. He tucked a strand of his sticky hair behind his ear and tried to brush past the person instead. But as he did, he was grabbed by the upper arms. “My _God_ you look terrible!” Yuuri knew the voice at once and felt relief flood through him. He sunk his face into Victor’s chest, defeated.  _I can't tell you. I can't.... not right now._

_But I will._

“I feel terrible too.”

Victor kissed his hair, and Yuuri listened to how quickly his heart was beating. He could assume that the relief was mutual…

“Victor.”  
  
“Hm?”  
  
“The- the train crashed.” He whispered.

“Shh… I know, baby. Are you alright?”  
  
Yuuri shook his head, but said nothing more.

***

That evening, their supper was a simple broth and bread, which left stomachs growling and several wondering if they’d have been better off fending for themselves in the woods. No one’s belongings had been retrieved, and people were feeling quite uneasy. There wasn’t a train station for miles. What were they supposed to do?

The cots were all taken, but the straw mattress that Victor and Yura had been sharing with two others was temporarily open. He wondered if they’d be forced to sleep separately tonight, being that five people; three adults and two children— couldn’t possibly sleep on this slim mattress. Victor was willing to stay up through the night so Yuuri could be comfortable.

The man and his son that had previously been sharing a bed with them moved to another mattress before bed, where his husband and two other people slept. They were given an old man to bunk with, which made Yuuri feel a bit uneasy. Yura slept on the edge, the farthest away from him, himself in the middle, and Victor was unfortunate enough to sleep next to the stranger.

And the old man… all he did was complain. They took up too much room. Yura squirmed too much. They talked too loud. It went on.

But soon enough, he stopped complaining and Yuuri got into a comfortable position. He was close to falling asleep when the coughing started.

The old man, a child on the other side of the room, the old man again, another man, the child……

Yuuri’s head ached too much for this constant rattle. With the biggest pout, he rolled onto his opposite side to see his husband.

“Victor…”

“Mm?” Victor, apparently, wasn’t bothered by the noise.

The old man glared at him immediately. “Shut up, I want to sleep.”

"I can't possibly sleep in here. Can we sleep someplace else?"

“Shut up, I said!”  
  
Victor elbowed the old man (accidentally, he swore!) as he got up. "Yeah. Come here."

.

They borrowed a few blankets they found in the back of the church, and then Victor carried Yura through the town until they found the stable Yuuri mentioned. Yuuri held his arm all the way there to keep himself steady, and he realized he forgot to ask if Victor had been injured, too, in the wreck.. It was snowing, but Yuuri paid no mind. He’d spent a night naked on a beach in the winter and lived, he could survive this. 

If only he’d paid mind to ask Phichit how he slept in stables.

Victor and Yuuri decided that the loft was just a bit too cold, but Victor was quick to come up with an idea to make them warmer. He made a fort of sorts, stacking a few bales of hay in front of, to their right and left and behind them (he was fortunate for the abundance of hay!) and then, stretched out three horse blankets above them (with a slight opening towards their feet for air, if needed) and it did feel a bit warmer. He stretched out the final two horse blankets below them to sleep on, and Yuuri folded two of their four blankets from the church into pillows. The final two were stacked on top of each other to double the warmth, and then they were ready to sleep. At first, Yuuri sat their son in the middle, but he quickly rejected the idea, complaining that he needed space for his slinged arm, whatever that meant. He moved to the edge closest to the wall, which left Yuuri in the middle once again. It was much better, sleeping up here. The only noise was the wind outside the stable, for the animals below them had fallen asleep, too…

“I don’t have the energy tonight, Victor, but… there’s something important I want to talk to you about. Soon.” Yuuri forced himself to say before dozing off, because this was important, this was what he needed to.........

“Whenever you are ready, I’m listening, Yuuri.”

Nodding, Yuuri pressed himself close to his husband and fell asleep.

***  


The people of Long Jack grew impatient over the next week when there weren't any additional trains coming to pick them up or any other aide provided (not even food, as their current supply ran quite low),  and it was soon decided that those who could were going to leave town on their own to find the nearest station and get to where they needed to go. For Victor, Yuuri, and about half of the others, that meant Independence. It wasn’t too long of a trip, and, as long as it didn’t snow again, they should’ve been fine.

If they kept a steady pace, they could reach Independence by the end of the week.

That’s what Yuuri had to keep telling himself as he packed all they had into a small satchel— the rest, at the bottom of a river someplace, was either lost forever or stolen. Fortunately, there wasn’t anything personal among their belongings, just some of Yuuri’s best clothes and a chunk of money, but…

Apparently there would be reparations given to the victims, though Yuuri doubted the railroad company would follow through with their promises, as it was simply a way to keep them calm temporarily. The money didn't matter to him. He'd been resting for much of the past week and felt a lot better. At this point, he just wanted to go home. 

“Yuuri, here,” On the second night that they slept in the loft of the stable, another family joined them because their children were too noisy and they received too many complaints in the church. That should've been Yuuri's first warning, but he was kindhearted and allowed them in. After all, it wasn't as if any of them owned this stable. The children were runny nosed, whiny little dears, whose father never bat an eye at them and mother was too busy tended to her own wounds to pay them much notice. Yuuri often thought, but never said it allowed, that these children; with their knotted, tangled hair, dirty faces and skinned knees, were always of this appearance. There were two girls; one just a baby, no older than two, and the second perhaps three, and a boy that had declared himself to be four. The mother’s stomach was also quite round, though she fretted about having a miscarriage to no one in particular. The woman in question handed Yuuri one of her bonnets, as he had been complaining of being cold. 

He quickly tied it on. She was so generous, this woman, ever since he arrived in this town. She was one of the first to introduce herself, to offer him food and spare clothing and company whenever Victor wasn’t around. She never told him her first name but simply went by Mrs. Jenkins. Her husband never spoke to Yuuri, only Victor, which… kind of bothered him? But it didn't matter, it wasn't like he was befriending Mr. Jenkins. He didn't mind company, and if it meant a little occasional disrespect from Mr. Jenkins in return for someone to talk to, he thought it was worth it.

“It’s time to go, I think. What’s taking you so long?” She put a hand on her hip and watched Yuuri finish his careful folding. “Just toss it in the bag, Yuuri.”  
  
“I like to be careful. I’m in no rush.” He said, mostly to remind himself that one person couldn’t push him around when he could really leave any time he wanted. When he closed the satchel, Mrs. Jenkins had already gone outside, and Yuuri took his time following her too. Two of her three children were running around in circles, the third was crying at her mother's feet. She wouldn't pick her child up.

"Come here, Lissie," Yuuri said once he had grown too pitiful of the bawling child. He lifted her into his arms and carried her around until she had fallen asleep; her long hair drooping over her face and Yuuri's neck. 

She grew very attached to him after that, and stayed with him for much of the journey home.

***

February, 1857

Independence, Missouri

Yuuri’d never been so happy to see their house, but it didn’t last long. The roof and siding had seen significant damage over the winter, making it all the more drafty than usual. Phichit had been sleeping in the storage since a storm hit a few weeks back, he said, and he’d start working on repairs once the weather cleared. He was such a good person, staying here all this time to help without any protest. Victor should've increased his wages, Yuuri felt. 

As Yuuri was still recovering, Victor decided to keep him out of the house while the repairs were being made. So he took them to his parents’ home, instead, just as another snowstorm had settled in. Mrs. Nikiforov was horrified to see their injuries and reinstated that she’ll never trust those horrid machines. Yuuri couldn’t focus on anything other than his itching head. 

Poor little Yura had been incredibly quiet ever since the crash, but when spoken to in private, he promised he was alright. He just wanted to rest his arm and be left alone.

She took Yuuri to the guest bedroom first so he could wash up, as she’d noticed him itching and scratching at his hair under the bonnet like a dog scratching at his fleas, and Victor went to help his father put away the animals before the storm hit.

“You must be chilled to the bone.” She said as she drew the curtains shut. “He should have let you stay in St. Louis for the winter instead of coming here when the tracks were so icy. No wonder it derailed.”  
  
Yuuri simply shrugged, hugging his knees after he had climbed into the tiny tin tub. As frustrated as he was with Victor, he wasn’t about to rant about him to his own mother-in-law. He started at his scratching again and was sure that he must've been bleeding by now from how much his scalp had been clawed.

“Oh, I’ll go get that soap for you, I completely forgot…” She walked behind him, then suddenly froze in her tracks. Yuuri heard her gasp. She pressed a finger onto Yuuri’s hairline, then started sifting through the hairs on his scalp. “Oh my lord,  _Yuuri_ , you have head lice!”

“ _What_ ?” He cried, reaching up to touch his scalp. “Can you _see_ them? Oh my god!”  _Lice? LICE?!_

Mrs. Nikiforov took Yuuri’s bonnet that rested on the floor beside him. Lifting it from the tips of her fingers, she tossed it into the fireplace in the kitchen, then returned to him, looking completely pissed. “I don’t know what to do with your lice other than to shave your head. I’ve got nothing here for such a dilemma and I’m not about to contract it myself. And I’m sure that little Yura and Victor, too, both have it, which only makes it easier to spread. Wonderful. I must house you all here and yet when you leave I’ll have to burn all the sheets, won’t I? Do you know how much money that will waste?”

“I- I haven’t touched anything yet…” Yuuri said quietly, as he was afraid that even speaking in his normal voice would infuriate her even further.  _I have lice! What am I going to do?! How many other people have I given it to unknowingly? Who gave it to_ me _?_

“Your son is asleep upstairs in the other guestroom!” She scoffed. When she didn’t say anything more for several moments, Yuuri thought the whole ordeal was done with. Well, he was wrong.

“You know what? Get up.” She grabbed his wrist and pulled him up in the tub, paying no mind to his exposed body. Mrs. Nikiforov thrust an old, worn robe of hers into his hands. “Put this on and come outside! I wouldn’t be surprised if you had lice on your body, too, because we’re all destined to die of typhus, aren’t we?”

Yuuri had about two seconds to pull on the robe and hold it shut before Mrs. Nikiforov tugged him outside, just off the front porch. “Now, stay there while I go get something for that hair.”

“Mrs. Nikiforov, there _must_ be some other way!” He pleaded, “T-There are combs and dyes to use, too, we don’t have to cut off all my hair. Please.”

“Do you see any dye or combs around here for head lice, Yuuri?” She folded her arms. It _was_ quite cold out. “I need to get rid of this quickly. I can’t _stand_ filth in my house.”

 _Filth...?_ He hid himself in the robe and bit back an unkind remark. And he waited there, shivering as it snowed, waiting for her to take away his one good feature. That family, those Jenkins children… they must’ve given it to him. Damn them. Damn them! Perhaps he needed to stop being so  _kind_ to others...

“Come sit on the steps, Yuuri.” He saw the glint of the blade, that’s it, and burst into tears. Never before had Mrs. Nikiforov met someone so emotional, he was certain. But all Yuuri could do was apologize repeatedly as he stood in place and beg her not to cut off his hair. She found it ridiculous. “Oh, Yuuri, it’s _just_ hair…”

“I-I don’t like my hair short!” He all-but-wailed. "I'll leave, I'll sleep in the barn, even! Just don't!"

She sighed again, praying for patience. “I don’t see what the big deal is. It’ll grow back in no time at all, you’ll see. And until then you can just cover your head. But it won’t go away unless we do this.”

He shook his head. "I won't let you." 

“Goodness, Yuuri, you’re acting like such a child.” Both looked up to see their husbands shutting the barn door, talking amongst themselves about something completely unrelated. And Victor didn’t even notice Yuuri standing out in the snow until he got much closer. He glanced from Yuuri to his mother and then back to Yuuri again. “What’s going on out here?”

“Victor—” Yuuri whined, reaching for him, only for Mrs. Nikiforov to quickly inform him of Yuuri’s problem. “So I have to cut his hair. We don’t have anything else.”

“I might have something at the store. If I hurry I won’t get stuck in the storm…”  
  
“It’s already snowing, Victor Nikiforov, you’d be a fool to go.” His father said pointedly.

“Well, I am one.” Victor said. “Get him inside and give him a bonnet until I get back. I won’t be long.” He kissed Yuuri’s hands with a promise that he would keep his word.

Yuuri was reminded of an instance on Christmas last year. They were going out for dinner together at a fine restaurant, and Yuuri spent a long time trying to pin his hair into a hat. Victor had stopped him, running his fingers through Yuuri's soft hair and said, "Perhaps you ought to leave it down? It's so beautiful this way." No one had ever said something like that to him before, and from that moment on he had kept his head uncovered— until now.  
  
Victor returned in about an hour and a half, when the snow came down so heavily Yuuri could hardly see out the window. (During that time period, Mrs. Nikiforov sat in her chair by the fire and mended a shirt angrily, mumbling something in Russian every time she happened to see Yuuri out of the corner of her eye. Finally, she said, “I can’t believe how he spoils you. Ridiculous.” But Yuuri knew better than to say anything back, because he was.)

Victor was covered in snow, cheeks red and stinging from the wind, but he seemed triumphant on the front porch as he stomped most of the snow off of him. When Mr. Nikiforov opened the door for him, the wind outside was loud enough to deafen him. It slammed shut on its own. “I asked Phichit, and he knew some remedies. I didn’t know which one you’d prefer, so I brought both.” He sniffed, unraveling his satchel to produce said items.

“Hair dye.” Yuuri said blankly, holding up the box. “What color is it?”

“Pink,” He teased with a rueful smile. “I believe it’s just brown.”

“Mm. What’re these, then?”

“Vinegar and olive oil. I want to try these first, as I do so love your dark hair.” And again, Yuuri heard Mrs. Nikiforov comment something about being spoiled, to which Victor said to her in their native language, “ _Hush, Mama, you know you’d want the same treatment if you had lice_.”

She rolled her eyes.

.

Yuuri’s hair felt greasy under the cap Victor brought, but it’d only be worse tomorrow when Victor tried the vinegar treatment. Still, he supposed it was better than being bald. The last time his hair was cut short was the worst period of his life thus far, and he’d rather not go back to that appearance or be reminded of it in any way.

Despite his mother’s (and Yuuri’s) warnings, Victor still slept beside him that night. He shivered under two quilts the same way he’d shivered all the way here and hid coughs in his sleeve, but Yuuri had just assumed it was because he was still cold and said nothing about it. Yuuri simply hugged his back and went to sleep to the sound of wind pounding against the window.

In the morning, Victor carefully combed out Yuuri’s hair. He said Yuuri’s options were to wait until the eggs hatched in a week or so or to start the second treatment now. Yuuri said he’d wait until that night so he didn’t have to walk around wearing that cap all day (which really did look quite ridiculous). Victor laughed, and Yuuri had forgotten how wonderful it made him feel to hear Victor do so. It’d been too long since either of them really laughed. 

***

Late April, 1857 

“Good to see you out and about,” Mrs. Nikiforov and her husband had been on their way home from Sunday service when they happened to run into Yuuri somewhere down the road while Yuuri was leaving the bookstore. They hadn't seen him since he left their home in mid-February, and what a disaster had that entire scenario been. Yuuri still hadn't forgiven Mrs. Nikiforov for trying to cut off his hair, and since then he refused to see her. And  _she_ refused to apologize, so it was a bit of a messy situation. 

Yuuri smiled faintly, using his hand to shade his eyes so that he could see his in-law’s better in the bright light. Damn Victor for ever mentioning liking him without a hat, because now it seemed he'd never wear one again. In the distance, he saw storm clouds. _I’d better get home…_ “Well we’ve had such a late spring that I haven’t felt very much like getting cold again. And after we all caught the flu together I’ve just been cautious.”

“You can never be too cautious,” She agreed. “How is Yura?”   
  
“Doing quite well. He enjoyed your birthday gift to him.” Yuuri took a step away. "I'd better get home now."

“Wonderful. You must send him to see us sometime soon, we do miss him, so. Victor, too.” She called to him as Mr. Nikiforov ushered his horses forward.  _But not me. Of course you don't want to see me._

“Well, he just might soon. I’m thinking of going back east for the summer by myself, so there’ll be plenty of time for them to visit!”

Alright.

Yuuri wasn’t _thinking_ of going east. He knew he was. The thing that he refused to admit to his in-laws was that he and Victor were not exactly getting along at the moment. When Yuuri had a pregnancy scare in March, he realized that it would be foolish to let Victor go west that spring and told him that. Even after he confirmed that he indeed wasn’t pregnant, his mind was still made up. After the winter they’d had, was it really wise for Victor to leave? Why did he need to go  _now_?

_You know I have to._

They’d been arguing about it, off and on, for close to a month now. At this point Yuuri debated _faking_ a pregnancy just to get Victor to stay, but he doubted it’d end well. As always, logic would endure and Victor would go west as he does and will continue well into the future. And besides, he rather liked the idea of not being pregnant and didn't want to jinx anything. 

Which is why Yuuri said he’d go east. And what he reinstated later that evening along with the threat that he _won’t come back_.

He and Victor never argued so often in their now two years of marriage. Both were too stubborn to budge on what their mind was set on. Yuuri knew there had to be a third option or nothing would ever come out of this.

Dinner was spent in silence, both of them glaring at each other until Victor decided to eat downstairs in the store. Yuuri refused to look at him. Now, wind blew the trees until they bent outside as the vicious storm blew in, and Yuuri pulled the shutters shut without paying much mind to the storm other than that he agreed with their "attitude". He was _so_ angry.

Victor was closing windows upstairs, his footsteps loud above him. _Good. Be pissed. Be as pissed as I am about you leaving._

Yuuri shut the curtains just as the rain started to pour down above them, then went to put away the last of the dishes from supper. _How long do I have to beg you for until you actually listen? You say you love me and still don’t give a fuck about how I feel. Well now it’s my turn._

He wiped the counter with a rag, continuing to scrub at a stain that wasn’t there when Victor came downstairs. _How will you react if you wake up tomorrow morning to an empty bed??_

_Will it be a fraction of the sadness I feel every damn day that you aren't here??_

“Yuuri—”  
  
“I’m not talking to you, Victor, until you change your mind.”

“Then I suppose we shall have to learn sign language, because I will not have my mind changed for me.” Victor stood by him to ensure that the windows were shut tightly, even though Yuuri had already done it.

“I won’t be here when you get back.”  
  
“Yeah, okay. I suppose you’ve been working part time to afford a ticket, too?” Victor drummed his fingers against the counter and commented about how hard it was raining, deliberately ignoring the real problem here. Refusing to admit he was wrong.  
  
“Your money is just as much mine, Victor, don’t belittle me.” Yuuri nudged past him and walked into their parlor. Thunder rumbled overhead. 

“I’m not belittling you, I’m being a voice of reason. You know we can’t afford another trip right now.” Victor said as he followed him, but Yuuri would not allow himself to stand near Victor. He worried that if he got much angrier that he'd actually slap his husband. 

Yuuri bent to pick up one of Yura’s toys. “But we can afford for you to travel all over the damn west, apparently.”

“I’m making _money_ , Yuuri, there’s a difference here.”

“I want to go home, Victor! I don’t want to stay here anymore, how else do you want me to put it?” Yuuri’s eyes widened the moment he said it; he knew he shouldn’t have said such a thing to Victor’s face. He could see the effect of it, too.

Victor swallowed, nodding his head. “Fine. I’m sure we can scrape up enough for a one way ticket. That's all that's important to you, obviously. So we'll have to make it happen."  
  
“Victor…”  
  
“Since you’re so unhappy with me, I won’t keep you here a moment longer. Just go.” Victor took what Yuuri carried in his arms to put away himself. “If you pack now, I’ll even drive you to the station. I can handle it, but... it's just a shame that you must do this to Yura. He loves you so much. Still... why don't you go? I get tired of having someone live here that is so miserable."

“Fine, I- I will.” 

.

Victor watched him, leant up against the bedroom door with his arms crossed, while Yuuri numbly packed what little he had. He could feel his husband’s eyes burning holes into him but refused to turn around.

But when the shutters blew open from the howling wind outside, Victor crossed the room to shut them again. Yuuri was seated on the floor, looking at a picture from St. Louis and paid no mind to the ruckus.

Victor struggled to pull the shutters closed, but no sooner than he did were they blown open again. He peered out at the prairie before them. Yuuri looked up when he heard him gasp.

“Yuuri…”

“What.”  _I wish I could go back in time and live in the moment this photo was taken again. I look so much prettier than I do now, and Victor and I were in a stage where we_ _wouldn't dare to say such_ _terrible things to each other._

“Yuuri, go downstairs. Now.”

“What, why?” Yuuri pushed himself onto his knees, but he couldn’t see around Victor to get a good look out the window. “It’s just a storm—”  
  
“Go downstairs!” Had Yuuri let his usual stubborn attitude decide, he would have ignored his husband, or perhaps scolded him for thinking he could order him around like that. But something in the urgency of his voice told Yuuri to listen, and so he quickly fled the room as told. Just as the two of them exited the doorway, the entire window that Victor had stood by was ripped out of the wall.

“Shit. Downstairs, downstairs!” Victor cried, lifting their sleeping son out of bed and hurrying along, grabbing Yuuri’s hand so that they could stay together.

“Downstairs, _where_?” The wind was deafening, and it was then Yuuri realized that it was more than a normal storm.

He had seen a tornado before; last year, on the porch of Victor’s parents’ farm, he watched a tornado rip across the prairie far away… never before had he seen one so close.

“The fruit cellar!” Victor held the door leading down to the shop for him, and Yuuri blindly felt his way down the steps. The shop doors banged open and shut, but there was no time to go close them. Victor led him into the storage room, then, towards the back of the store, he opened the trap door leading to the fruit cellar. The two of them with their son in tow climbed into the dark pit, and Victor held the door shut.

They were submerged in darkness.

“Victor, I have to tell you something,” Yuuri shouted over the noise above them, but his anger evaporated the moment his terror set in. He didn't know what possessed him to bring this up at a time like this, but Victor didn't tell him to shut up, so, “I don’t hate this place because of your work or anything like that.”

“Then why??” Victor met his gaze, finally letting go of the door once it had been secured.  
  
“It’s because I— I want to be with you more! I want to know you and this job, i-it just… I don’t know, I… always feel like I’m on a timer, Victor! That every moment I spend without you is wasted time and we’re not doing enough and… and I’m sorry! But I can’t help wanting to be around you always... because I love you!”

Victor stared at him for a minute, as if he was waiting for Yuuri to contradict himself or say he was lying. But, he didn’t. “Well, I love you too, Yuuri! And that’s why I have to keep trading! I’m going bankrupt, and I don’t want you to have to be homeless! This trading business… it’s all I’m going to have.”

 “Oh, Victor... I’ll ask my parents for money. A-and… perhaps we could get a loan from the bank… you should've told me sooner!”

“Even if I did want you to ask your parents, it might be months before we get any sort of response. I… think my best bet—”  
  
“ _Our_ best bet, Victor. This concerns both of us.”

“Fine, _our_ best bet— is to sell some of the stores.”

“What? How many do you have, exactly?”  
  
“When I met you? There were seven. Last year I sold two to their respective managers, this year, if we don’t see any damage _here_ , I’m thinking another two.”

“Why are you closing them? Is the business _that_ bad?”  
  
“No, people are always willing to buy. I just don’t have anything to sell them. The crop last year near the other two stores was atrocious and mostly destroyed by flooding. The route that one was on became less popular. The second sold little more than produce, anyway…”

Yuuri slipped his hand into Victor’s and brushed the other along his cheek. “Why don’t you ever tell me these things? We’re supposed to do this together.”

“Alright. From now on, I’ll try to be more honest, okay? But that still doesn't solve our problem, does it?…”

.

The damage was… extensive. Yuuri knew it without having to go upstairs.

(Mostly because he could see his bed out in the street, but…)

“Don’t go upstairs just yet, Yuuri.” Victor told him after he noticed Yuuri grab the handle to go upstairs. They had been picking up things that had fallen over in the store, but Yuuri's curiosity had eventually gotten the better of him. “I’m not sure what it’s like up there and—”  
  
“I’ll be careful, Victor.” Yuuri smiled weakly. "Besides, it's too depressing to be down here."

When he tried to open the upstairs door, he was met with some difficulties. Something must’ve fallen in front of the door, because every time he attempted to push it, he felt something against the other side. He pushed all his weight against the door until it slides open enough for him to peek his head through.

The first indication that perhaps there had been significant damage was the fact that he could see outside from here. The entire side of the house had been ripped off, and judging by the sound of water dripping above him, he figured the roof had seen better days, too.

He managed to slip through the slim opening of the door, but he wasn’t sure where it was even safe to step. He tested every floorboard until he got to the kitchen, where the table hung out the hole in the wall where a window once was, broken dishes littered the floor and he had an uninterrupted view of the prairie.

"Oh no..."

Upstairs was in much worse condition.

Crouching by the toppled over wardrobe that somehow survived the tornado, he picked up a soaked photograph that he had left there earlier. How it survived, Yuuri was unsure, because by all logic, it should've blown away with the storm. Yuuri took a deep breath and looked up at the sky. “Stop listening to me when I complain.”

.

“It’s three weeks to Kearney, and that’s it.” Yuuri followed his husband at almost a jog to keep up with him as they hurried to buy supplies for their unexpected trip. There was no use trying to talk Yuuri out of it; if Victor had a trading post in Fort Kearney, then that was where they needed to go. No, he did not want to stay with Victor’s parents for the rest of the year while Victor made his usual rounds. They were going together, period.

And this time, Victor listened.

“We have essentially all we need already, don’t we?” Yuuri looked down at a checklist Victor had composed himself. “The food, clothes, spare parts…”  
  
“We don’t have the animals, the items we’ll need when we get to the fort if we’re to stay permanently, I… don’t mind over packing this time and buying whatever you want, even if it’s not a necessity. It’s just a three week trip. What would you like to bring?” He stopped in front of the Crispino’s bookstore, unintentionally.

“Can I… bring a few books, please?”

.

“We will be with a party of 72. Their leader is a jackass but there isn’t another forming until the end of next week and I’m not keen for waiting that long.” Victor told him as he exited the stable. He had just bought several animals that Yuuri was unsure as to why exactly they needed them. He felt dizzy; everything was happening so fast. Yesterday at this time, he was arguing with Victor but still living in their lovely home with a completely different set of worries than he did right now. Sure, they weren't going to Oregon itself, but Fort Kearney was still several hundred miles away and they'd have to build their own house... 

Never would he have predicted this to have happened to them, but he supposed he deserved it after all his whining about wanting to come with Victor along the trail. Now, he'd actually be experiencing it for the first time, not as an onlooker, but as an actual participant. All the fears he had of the trail weren't abstract anymore, they were concrete and entirely possible. He knew they had to be careful, regardless, but what if their fate was out of their control? Would he even survive to see Nebraska? It was terrifying to think that he could be dead in several weeks, but he had to go. Curiosity bubbled up inside of him and a little bit of excitement through the fear— the excitement of starting a new chapter of their lives, one that Victor would be a much greater part of when he didn't have a reason to be far from him..

“Why is he a jackass, Victor?”  
  
“He’s the kind of leader that just wants to get there when he feels like it. That means that he may not be reasonable. If a river has a ferry with a 3 day wait, he’ll make everyone forge it, no matter how deep. People get tired? No matter, he’ll continue on, unless of course, _he_ gets tired, then we all have to wait around…” Victor paced back and forth in front of their destroyed store, talking as if no one else was there, mentioning something about flooded rivers and unpredictable weather...  
  
“Then maybe we _should_ wait for the next party.” Yuuri took his hands and raised his lips to them. "I trust you more than a random guide."  
  
"Yuuri, if you want to stay for a little while longer... or just stay period. I mean, I wanted to prevent you from having to go through this. I wanted that so badly, more than anything. We can stay at my parents' for now, figure something out, if that's what you..."

“No, forget what I said, I'm just fretting. We’ll be fine." Yuuri said at once. "It’s only three weeks, right? I only have concern for the people who stay with him after that. But if you promise we'll be okay, I'll be fine." He wrapped his arms around Victor's neck, resting their foreheads together. "You can promise me, can't you?"

The silence wasn't exactly comforting. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hallo :)
> 
> 1\. I linked it in the end notes, but there's this 90s Oregon Trail game that's free to play online and I just thought it might be a little fun thing for you all to do if you're as bored as I am during the summer. 
> 
> 2\. This chapter was actually done like two weeks ago, but then I redesigned it, I guess. And then I split it in two because it was too long. So Yuuri doesn't exactly tell Victor anything in this part. Sorry. Next part. and there's a lot more romance in chapter six. It's gonna be nice :)
> 
> 3\. I'm not 100% sure when the next chapter will be up. I hope to put it up soon... we'll see.
> 
> See you next time!
> 
> 7/18/18— chapter is going up this weekend. I'm going to announce this at the end of that one, but I'll put it here too: be sure to subscribe to the Frontier AU series, because Victor's past is going to be uploaded as a separate one shot, as well as Yuuri's. I mean, aren't you wondering why Victor was chosen to be Yuri's guardian? How he got into this business in the first place? You'll find out then.


	7. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The journey across the midwest begins. 
> 
> (Oh, and the fate of Lara Giacometti is revealed)

September, 1860

Nebraska

 

 

To Victor, having a baby around is a blessing. He’s more than happy to show everyone his family comes across their newest addition, and Yuuri finds it all quite amusing. The evening before they are to leave for their trip east, Victor takes them to visit the Altin-Parker family; Jesse, Michael, and Otabek are wonderful people and the only things Victor thinks he might miss about being in Nebraska.

“What was your reaction?” Jesse tips his flask back to take a swig of the beer he has stashed in his barn, then watches Victor’s tranquil expression sour. “How did you not know? You were here up ‘til May, weren’t you?”  
  
“I did suspect it, all along. When he was having morning sickness, I asked if he was pregnant and he denied it vehemently. When his stomach seemed round before I left in May, I asked. I even fought him about it because I was that sure, and he said I was insulting his weight and cried.”  
  
“And then you just left.”  
  
“I didn’t think he’d hide something like that from me. I couldn’t believe he did, that was my reaction when I came home. I felt… I feel betrayed.”

“If Michael pulled that sort of thing on me I’d never give him the kindness you give Yuuri. And you’re still going to Virginia with him to spoil him with that new house?”

“He deserves it. He honestly does, baby or not.”  
  
“I don’t think you chose a good place to settle. There’s lots of tension in Virginia, you know. And talk of splitting the state in two—”  
  
“Okay, there’s tension everywhere right now. And if there really is a war, I’m hoping that the town I’ve chosen is far enough out of reach of all the action.”

“Would you ever enlist?”  
  
“No. Yuuri would kill me.”

“Mm, Michael just might too. Since he’s already lost a husband.” Jesse empties his cannister onto the ground. “So, tell me. You two haven’t had kids before but definitely had chances to make them. Did the time you made her feel different?”  
  
Victor thinks back to _that_ day, and honestly? There was something different…

* * *

 

January 1860

Yuuri wiped his mouth, blush evident on his cheeks as he crawled back from Victor’s thighs. “Sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”

“No, it’s okay, love. I don’t mind it at all.” Victor bit his lip, marveling at the beauty before him.   
  
“Um, I… I—” Yuuri swallowed, hard, then closed his eyes like he was too embarrassed to say what he wanted to right to Victor's face. “I’m fertile right now.”

“Are you?” Victor tilted his head, brushing a strand of hair away from Yuuri’s face.  
  
Yuuri nodded quickly. “I usually don’t tell you but I just wanted you to know so we can decide on what we want to do..”  
  
“What do you mean? You always make that decision.”

“I know, but… we haven’t talked about it in awhile but I really feel like being pregnant right now.” Yuuri shrugged his heated shoulders. “Like, _right_ now.”

Victor seemed taken aback by this statement. “Ah, I don’t know. You’re never this determined, and… last time we talked about this you said you didn’t want children.”  
  
“That was before? That was before, yeah. I changed my mind.”

“Did you?”

“We’ve almost been married five years and you know I’d do anything to make the next five years so much better.” Yuuri crawled up and kissed on his husband’s neck. “The rest of our lives, even. You’re such a good dad already, and think of it, a baby of our own…”

“I’m not saying I am against it in any way, Yuuri. I’m really all for it. I’m just saying that perhaps we should wait a little while…? Until I can be certain that _you’re_ sure. Like if you’ll feel the exact same way a week from now, a month—”  
  
“I don’t want to wait that long!” Yuuri whined. “Please…”

“Yuuri.” His voice turned firm. “For five _years_ your opinion has been consistent. You don’t want children because you are afraid that your body cannot handle another, and I won’t put you in any risk just because you’re at the height of your cycle. Come to me in a week and tell me the same—”

Yuuri looked down amid his frustrated tears. “I won’t have this chance next week. I don’t even know if this is going to work. I just want to try. Please.”

“But _why_? Tell me an actual reason why you want this.”

“Because I…” Because Victor was going to leave again? Because he was going to keep leaving, and Yuuri hated it. He just wanted them to be together, to actually _live_ their lives together. And yes, as terrifying as pregnancy seemed, he wanted a baby again all because... baby fever was so terrible… “I think it’s time we settle down. Permanently.” He rubbed Victor’s shoulders. “Think about it. No more moving around. Having a place where we can grow old together…”

“That does sound tempting, but…”  
  
“But?”

“Is this really the place you’d like to call your forever home? I think we could do better.” Victor hummed, “Think of _this_ : a house four times as large as this one. And in a place far from tornadoes and the like. Someplace secure.”

“I’d like that if we could afford it.” Yuuri snuggled up to him, “so let’s make a baby now and you have the house ready in nine months. Deal?”

Victor hid his knowing grin in Yuuri’s shoulder. “Uh-huh… we’ll see about that.”

.

It took Yuuri less than a blink of an eye to undress, Victor felt. And he was being so bold, undressing _Victor_ , too, that Victor had to wonder what had possessed his darling husband today. (Not that he minded it. He was a bit too numb to care.)

Yuuri took the lead. He was serious about what he wanted, demanding and quite determined to force as much pleasure out of the situation as he could… but Victor— it wasn’t that he wasn’t into it, he just… right now he felt like he was seeing Yuuri in a different light… a negative one, too— because of the man he killed. And he hated it. That dead son of a bitch knew _too_ much about Yuuri. He might’ve even known Yuuri better than he—

No. Of course Victor knew him better.

  
***

October, 1860

Eastern Nebraska

Yuuri raises his eyebrows at the cost of their tickets, but he says nothing because they are already paid for and any complaint will be disregarded by Victor. Their train is to leave at noon, another three hours from now. So, as they have a bit of time on their hands until it is time to board, the first thing Victor decides to do is find the nearest doctor for both Yuuri and the baby. They are lucky to only have to wait a few moments, but Yuuri makes Victor wait outside.

Yuuri cringes through the physical and looks at a diagram of the body on the wall across from the table when the doctor decides that Yuuri's making a decent recovery, given his backstory. When he notices the sores on Yuuri's thighs, he prescribes ointments to relieve the pain and Yuuri is very grateful. 

They are sent to a pharmacist about the ointments after the doctor didn't have enough (and Victor is completely oblivious as to why he needs them) and Yuuri’s given three different bottles in a brown paper bag. Then, they are again sent on their way.

Finally, Victor takes them to a clothes store to buy everyone a new set of clothes. Yuuri grimaces when he tries on the slacks he chose for himself—too tight!— and puts them back. He instead buys silk pajamas and makes the excuse that his weight will be fluctuating over the next few weeks, so it would be a waste to buy much for himself right now anyway.

.

The first day on the train was agony for Yuuri; his bed sores seemed to grow worse, somehow, and he failed to keep it to himself when he had to undress in front of Victor and the source of his discomfort was revealed. 

He had _tried_ to kick out Victor, but he insisted on staying. Now there was nothing to keep him from seeing. “Ah… what happened here?” He nodded towards Yuuri’s wounded thighs.

“Bed sores, I was told.” Yuuri said slowly, guilty.

Victor turned him this way and that, getting a good view at the sores. “They look painful.”  
  
“They are.”

“How can I help?”

“Um, I got ointment from the pharmacy. It’s in my travel bag if you’d—”  
  
“Sure.” He pulled open the bag without another word, “Which one? There are three?”  
  
“Start with the green bottle, please.” Yuuri sat on the bench across from him and spread his legs. “I’ll apply the second tomorrow morning and the third is just a second supply.”

Victor poured out some of the gel into his hands and then kneels between his thighs. “Poor thing…”

“Don’t you even think about blaming yourself, Victor, you wouldn’t have been here anyway, I bet.” Yuuri winces as his husband touches one of the sores. “Hurry and put on the ointment, Victor. It’s been terrible walking around with this, it chafes when I do…”

And since then, Victor has watched him like a hawk. As if he can hide anything else on this journey east, anyway. All his secrets lie in his journal, and Yuuri’s sure Victor has already read through it when he was asleep. There aren’t many secrets in there now that Victor doesn’t know, most of it just details the pregnancy. _And to think I almost told him on so many different occasions. Things would be so much better now if I had! No bed sores, he’d be happy with me…_

 _Is he happy right now?_ Yuuri wonders, watching Victor doze off against the window in their cabin. He’s tired himself, but knows there’s no way for him to settle when it is still light out. 

“Can I go to the observation deck?” Yura says, though his eyes are shut. _I thought you were asleep, too. And this is the third time you've asked today._

“Why? I’m sure we can see everything they can from here."  
  
All Yura does is give a look to the baby and Yuuri knows exactly why he wants to get out. “...Can I go?”

Yuuri sighs. “Alright, but don’t you dare go anyplace else. Understood?”

“Yeah.”

Yuuri imagines it must be difficult for his son to never be able to settle. To think he was uprooted completely at such a young age when his biological father died tragically and sat with a complete stranger with no one familiar to help him grieve, and then moving around as often as they have over the past five years… he knows it’s hard. He knows Yura likes living in Nebraska because of the friends he has there, especially Otabek Altin and his little sister, and coming east for the winter upsets him.

And it upsets him to now _have_ a sister, too. Yuuri can sense the jealousy, he can see it, too, when both himself and Victor show their daughter attention, the way Yura glares out the window or bites the inside of his cheeks or just seems to stiffen up. He’ll have to ask about that.

Yura has been an only child for his entire life, and as he’s nearing ten, Yuuri can imagine that the sudden shared attention may come as a shock to him. Perhaps if he wasn’t so jealous he might be kinder to his sister, because so far in her week of life he’s only frowned at her and complained about her crying. And it isn’t as if she cries often, in fact, Yuuri believes her to be quite an easy baby thus far. When she is upset, she tries to chew on her hand (and fails due to her mittens) but is often calmed by being propped up by the window to watch the moving prairie.

_Perhaps I do pay her too much attention. It’s not like I have to stare at her my every waking moment, I just… I just want to._

She’s so _beautiful_.

Who wouldn’t want to look at her all day?

Smiling— almost a grin— he leans back against Victor’s shoulder and closes his eyes, grin forming when he feels Victor’s hand take his. _Okay, this is nice. I won't think about any of the things troubling me right_ _now— at least I'll try. I just need to relax._

***

They arrive in Baltimore before September is over, but it is another three days until they approach Dover. Yuuri packed for a period of about four months. He had no idea how long they’d actually be staying east but figured it wouldn’t be too long, being that the last time they went someplace for a period of time (and Yuuri assumed it was permanent) he’d packed (and then lost) just about everything. Victor bought a whole set of outfits for the baby, some that fit now and some that she will grow into, but all are absolutely adorable.

And of course, he bought much, much more material for diapers.

On their way across the Bay via ferry, she wears a blue floral print dress underneath the white blanket she is swaddled in, and a little blue headband to match, though her hair is still quite thin and there is no actual use for it.

Yura is astonished to see the ocean; it’s been since he was a toddler that he neared the shore, but he can’t remember that. It’s been a long time since Victor has seen the ocean, too, and he looks at it for a long while. The water is bright blue and tiny waves lap against the sides of the ferry. 

 To Yuuri, the excitement that he feels is different from his family's. This isn't anything new, it just feels like coming home. Yuuri holds the baby up so she can see, too. She watches the water while chewing on her hand, eyes curious but too young to understand what she is seeing. Surprisingly enough, she is quite content for the ride. She seems to like looking at the lovely sailboats that pass by, but Yuuri's not sure if that's what she's actually looking at or not. Everyone seems to be quite content, even Yura, who’s been ever so quiet these past two weeks since the baby’s birth. Yuuri assumes his behavior has something to do with them temporarily moving again, away from his best friend, but he isn’t sure.

After a while, once Victor is certain if he looks at the churning water one more time he’ll be sick, he turns to Yuuri and happens to catch the most content of expressions. Yuuri isn’t tired of seeing the bay, not in the slightest. “Did you ever miss this?”

Yuuri breaks his gaze as if he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t be. “Oh… sometimes, I guess. The prairie is quite flat, but I found it pretty. It’s just as lonely as the sea is.”

“Yeah.” Victor kisses his cheek. “Not so lonely now, is it?”

“No, not so lonely now.” Yuuri says softly.

.

“Yes, I just got his telegram the other day, he really is coming.” Mrs. Katsuki says to her daughter one morning in early October. “Though I can’t imagine why, we haven’t heard from him in years. Nevertheless, I’ll be glad to see him alive and well.”

“I hated it out there. It was so dusty and humid.” Says Mari. She’s been here for ten minutes and both her and her husband have already been put to work. She’s helping her mother sweep the parlor, currently, but she knows the moment that’s finished with she’ll have to do something else. “I never imagined him to move to such a place. Not that it was a run-down shack town or anything, but it was just so… different.”

“I’d often debated visiting, as you know, but I’m not sure it’s safe. That’s why I’m glad he’s coming _here_ , away from that danger.” She looks out the window at the light rain that falls and smiles to herself. “Your father is just as pleased; he’s gone buying a few things for the guestroom.”

“I’ll have to rent a room at the inn so I won’t have to travel every day to see him.” Mari nods to herself, quick to chide her toddler from attempting to grab a cookie off the table. “Those aren’t for you, little boy. Go find your dad.”

“Mari, will you go up to my cupboard and get the spare sheets?”

There is much Hiroko Katsuki wants to tell Yuuri. She wants to apologize for how things were handled back then. Her reputation wasn’t worth losing her son over, and she’s known that for a long time. She wants to ask him to stay in Delaware, permanently, because it kills her to be so far from him and knows he can’t possibly be happy all the way out west all by himself.

But those talks, among many others that will happen, can come later. For right now, Yuuri is coming home after five long years, and she can’t wait to see him.

 

.

“Stop the carriage at the house on the end of the lane, Mister.” Yuuri closes the slip separating his family from their driver. Yura’s asleep, but the baby’s been awake for awhile, and Victor holds her in a sitting position, but she doesn’t nearly have the strength to do it on her own. “Shall I take the baby, Victor?”

“I got her, don’t I?” Victor lifts her so that her chin rests on his shoulder. Yuuri adjusts her blanket around her and then her hat to keep her ears warm. _You didn’t have her five minutes ago when she threw up all over you and herself._ But anyway, she’s warm and settled now, so as long as they can make it inside without any more accidents, everything should be fine...

“This the place, sir?” The driver halts the carriage, and Yuuri’s heart flutters.

“Yeah. This is the place.”

The sun has set when they step out of the carriage. It has just stopped raining.

Yuuri can’t help but chew on his lip. It’s been so long since he’s been home, it feels surreal. Like he’s going to wake up back home and it’ll just be a dream. He doesn’t even know what to say. Should he knock? He’s scared. The last time he was here, he was about to go to Missouri after just losing his baby, and now he’s coming back here with one, what if he loses her too? What if—

“Yuuri.”  
  
Yuuri turns to Victor, who is waiting expectantly.. “It’s nothing, right? It’s not like we’re meeting President Buchanan. This is my family, I was born here, and yet I’m too afraid to knock on the door.”

“Shall we just stand out in the cold, night air, then? They are probably watching us from a window and seeing how foolish we are.”  
  
“Maybe we should wait until morning? What time is it—”  
  
“Oh, for Pete’s sake, I’ll do it.” Yura stomps past his parents and rung the bell, leaving them gaping.

Yuuri smooths his loose slacks— the only comfortable and clean article of clothing he owns at this point— and takes a deep breath. _It’s not like they don’t want to see me. Why am I so afraid?_

***

* * *

 

Then,

April-May 1857

Missouri and Nebraska

 

Yuuri kept a journal now, starting it the very same day he picked it out in the Crispino’s shop before they left, (who were devastated to see him go) and now he decided to fill it with something useful. Problem is, there wasn’t much to talk about other than how much he disliked their trail guide, Miles Finn. And to think they had to pay _him_ , when Victor was clearly more knowledgeable.

It was a bit more difficult to leave Independence than he had initially thought. Victor’s parents were angry with him and repeatedly stated how bad of an idea this was. “Yuuri doesn’t _want_ the life you’re trying so hard to push at him. Can’t you see that?” Yuuri heard Mrs. Nikiforov whisper sharply. “ _What about children? You want to raise children with him on that godforsaken prairie? He won’t be happy there, Vitya, if he’s not even happy_ here _. You’re making a huge mistake_.”

“We shall have to see, won’t we, Mother…”

For the first time, he agreed with something that Victor's mother said, but he said nothing when they left the Nikiforov family farm a few minutes later.  _I'm going whether I like it or not. I'm not changing my mind again._

***

April 10th, 1857

_It had snowed last night and the temperature dropped quite suddenly along with it. The snow is slush now, but when we approached the Blue River earlier, it was still frozen over. Miles instructed everyone to cross, he tested it with his horse and said it was good enough. The water isn’t deep, he assured us._

_Miles Finn is… rugged, I suppose. He looks just like a mountain man should. He says he’s been up and back these trails more times than I can count. Was that a degrading comment? He did say it only to me. It’s not like I have the strength to be offended by such comments, as I have been used to them all my life. But anyway, to continue about my first river crossing…_

_We were up first, but Victor wouldn’t budge. He spent the next ten minutes arguing with Mr. Finn about how the ice wasn’t thick enough for a wagon and that we should wait until it thaws and decide then. Mr. Finn argued back that there wasn’t time for that; could Victor predict the weather? It was kind of embarrassing to witness, being that this is our very first day and the other traveler’s opinions on us surely wouldn’t be good. We were stared at quite a bit._

_But I had to trust Victor on this one as we retreated back in line. Another family— the Nishigori’s, I believe they said— followed us, and eventually no one_ would _go across. Mr. Finn got quite angry, shouting all sorts of deregatory comments at us, and then decided to take his own wagon across to prove how “idiotic” we were. He has a husband that he just calls “Dee”— Mr. Finn must be at least triple his age, the poor dear— but no children or any on the way (but I haven't gotten a close look at Dee, for I've only seen him from behind), and the two of them began to cross the river I have done laundry by so many times. No sooner did they reach the middle than did the back two wheels of the wagon crash into the water. It wasn’t deep, but I imagine that it must’ve been terrifying for the husband. Mr. Finn was even more pissed after that, he and Victor bickering like cats and dogs, and we ended up staying here for the remainder of the day. My, how the weather’s been changing. Yesterday, it snowed, not four days before did we get a tornado, and now it seems to be warming up again. I have no idea what to wear!_

_But anyway, it’s getting dark now, which means I’d like to get to bed as soon as possible. I don’t like being by the water at night, which Victor understands. We are probably the furthest away from the river out of everyone. Tomorrow, Victor says, will be when the real challenge of this journey begins. But to me, the hardest part will be having to deal with our hotheaded guide._

_There’s something else that is plaguing me, too, and that is that I am afraid, with all these people around and the fact that we are sharing a room with our son for the next three weeks… that there will be no private time for Victor and myself. I’m sure that’s a selfish thing to complain about, but things are starting to look up for our marriage and I don’t want to put them on hold for this journey. We shall see what happens._

_  
_ _It’s so dark now that I can hardly see this page. I suppose that’s all for now._

***

“Yuuri… it’s time to get up, love.” Admittedly, Victor's voice wasn't what woke him early the following morning, but his voice was the first thing threatening his rest, so he wasn't thrilled.  _Didn't I just fall asleep?_ When Yuuri opened his eyes, he was surprised to see that it was still quite dark out and couldn’t help but to grumble about it. “What time is it?”  
  
“It’s already half past six. Did you have trouble sleeping last night?”

In his sleep deprived state, Yuuri wasn’t about to admit that he had more than trouble sleeping; every slightest noise had him jolting into awareness. This was the first time he’d ever camped out someplace with so many others, and he couldn't help but to be unsettled by all the different voices and movement when he'd grown so used to the quiet nights in Independence. “I’m just tired. I just woke up, didn’t I?”

“Yeah. Sorry.” Victor stoops to meet Yuuri halfway for a kiss. “The river’s running, so the ferry will, too. We’ll be fine today.”

  
Yuuri smiles, half lidded eyes drinking in Victor's appearance. He looks quite happy today and much more enthusiastic than normal. It's interesting... “I bet you’ll become everyone’s favorite for what you did yesterday.” Yuuri says, “But… don’t you think Mr. Finn should’ve known not to cross? Shouldn’t every trail guide have that kind of intuition?”

“Yes, and I’m sure this time was a simple mistake. Most people who haven’t experienced flimsy ice will assume if one thing can get across, then they all can. I guess we have to hope that this was a one-time-thing, but you know… a man’s ego is a fragile thing. If it happens again, he probably won’t listen to me or let anyone else, either.”

“Well, at least we’re just going to Fort Kearney. And then we have to build our own house… which, I’m not going to lie, Victor, sounds frightening.”  
  
“Doesn’t it? We’ll have to figure it out together.”

“And what will we do about food? Clothes? Does the fort have that kind of thing?”  
  
“How about you just let me do the worrying for now?”

***

 

_April 14th, 1857_

_Last night, after everyone else had gone to bed (Mr. Finn has a strict 10 pm curfew) Victor took me far out into a field so we could be alone. I didn’t know what to expect, but I was pleasantly surprised, and that's all I will say on the matter._

 

***

 

On April 15th, it was foggy and cloudy all day and Yuuri knew from the moment he woke up to the unpleasant sky that it would not be a good day for him. And on top of that, Yuuri’s stomach twisted up in cramps, sinking his mood to an impossible low. He knew he had to walk for a majority of the day. Someone had to mind Yura, who was far too curious now that he knew how things were going to be like for the next two weeks.

One of their “neighbors”— the Nishigori’s— had three little girls around his age and they constantly asked him to play. Yuuri might have been able to rest knowing that Yuuko Nishigori was keeping an eye on him, but with all these large animals and carts around, they couldn’t be too careful.

And lastly, it _really_ didn’t help that April 15th, as it would be every year, was a hard day for him to get by. It might have been easier to get through had it not been for Miles Finn shouting today’s date at the crack of dawn and having to hear it echo in his mind from a time just a few years’ past…

April 15th had been his due date.

And he couldn’t tell anyone why he was so sad, so he had to continue to mope through the day, cramps and anxiety and all.

Around lunchtime, he happened to catch a conversation between a woman and Mr. Finn’s husband. The woman had a small child that she carried, though the child squirmed to be free and run with his siblings. “When are you due?” She asked him. 

Yuuri’s mouth hung open.

“I’m not certain on the exact date, but… sometime late this summer. How wonderful is it that my child will be able to be born in this beautiful country and not in the stuffy east?” Dee chatted excitedly. “I should hope to have a son, though. I do so love children, but boys are most agreeable to me.”

“Yes, my Johnny here just turned two last week. He adores being out in a place like this where he can really stretch his legs, you know?”

Yuuri pinched his lips together and noticed how his eyes stung at the corners. He wasn’t walking anymore. _He would be two now, wouldn’t he? If today was supposed to be his birthday… I - I wonder what he would look like, me or him? Would I have been able to marry Victor if he was still alive? There are laws, of course, and I’m not sure about how his father might fit into that picture…_

_I’d give anything to have my son back. Anything at all…_

“Hey, watch out!” The man that had been steering the wagon behind Yuuri was startled when he saw Yuuri stopped in the road like that. He did his best to steer out of the way, nearly tipping his wagon over. Still, he nearly (and would have) hit Yuuri, had it not been for Dee yanking him out of the way into the grass.

Yuuri blinked, but he still failed to find the strength to do anything more but weakly apologize for his mistake while he stood there shaking like a leaf.

“Are you alright, honey?” Asked the young man as he held onto Yuuri’s wrists. Yuuri shook his head. As he looked around at the halted wagons, the people staring, and most terribly, hearing that word, all he could do was sink to his knees and cry.

And dear Yura, who’d been watching from the sidelines, did what any dutiful son would and went to find Victor, who was a bit further up in line and hadn’t noticed the halting behind him.

He ran as fast as his little legs could carry him and tugged on Victor’s arms the moment he saw him.

Victor looked down at him, a little startled at the sudden contact. It seemed that he had been deep in thought. “What is it?” He glanced around until his eyes settled on the haltage. Yura pointed insistently that way, and, when Victor didn’t see Yuuri anywhere, he called for Takeshi Nishigori to watch his animals while he hurried to the scene. He was… just as surprised at anyone else, to say the least.

He crouched beside Yuuri and the trail guide’s husband. “What’s going on? Are you hurt?”

“Mister, he’s fine. Don’t waste your time asking these things.” The young man said. “He’d do better if you gave him some rest, away from all this staring.”

.

Victor helped Yuuri into their wagon and closed the flaps in the back for privacy. “Do you want to talk about it right now?” He asked in a whisper, and when Yuuri shook his head, he left him there and went to the front of the wagon to keep moving on with the rest of the group.

“Later, though,” Yuuri managed to say, and Victor nodded.

.

 

When the sun was low in the sky, Yuuri knew that it was time to tell Victor. He had time to think about what he should say first all day, and now he felt about as ready as he’d ever be.

Victor sent Yura to spend the evening with the Nishigori’s, and once it was dark, managed to sneak Yuuri away from the caravan; far off from anyone else. They sat behind a rock in front of the river they’d been following for quite some time. Victor brought a blanket and wrapped it around Yuuri’s shoulders. He sat close to him, but he didn’t say anything. He simply dragged a stick along the sand, back and forth. Sometimes he scribbled his name in cursive or Russian, but he always erased it again. Yuuri wondered if he was feeling impatient.

Breathing in slowly, Yuuri simply focused on the gently flowing water in front of them and started to speak, his words flowing as easily as the current before them. “There is a lot that you don’t know about me. And I think it’s time that I… shed some light on some things I’ve been avoiding. Y-You deserve to know.”

.

_I met him when I was sixteen after an Easter Sunday service at a church my brother-in-law attended. He was with a bunch of boys by the creek with a ropeswing and I was a bit lonely, I guess. He was troublesome, that’s for sure, but I liked him because of that. He wasn’t afraid of doing what he wanted to, no matter the consequences. I guess that really came back and bit me in the ass later._

_Uh… on my seventeenth birthday we started dating? He was flighty, though. I knew he cheated on me all the time with other people. So to get revenge, I started seeing someone else. That guy, I just called him Doc, he was really nice, but he was too old for me. He wanted to settle down right away and got serious very quickly. Because I still had feelings for my first ah… lover, I guess, I couldn’t reciprocate those feelings. So Doc found someone more suitable, someone a bit older than me. And he went to Oregon the next year. After him was a boy everyone called Teddy, though he never told me his real name. He was six years older than me, but you’d never know with his maturity. We dated for two months before his ex girlfriend announced she was pregnant and they had to quickly elope and pretend they’d been married all along. Teddy still liked me though and admittedly I - I gave in to him even after his daughter was born, until his wife found out. Up until I left I could say with confidence that he’d still sleep with me if I ever came to him. And maybe we might have had a decent marriage, but again, I was just so focused on my first. What he was doing, where he was, that eventually we— briefly– got back together the summer before I turned twenty. That was my mistake, because… because I…_

.

Yuuri felt so embarrassed telling Victor about his pregnancy. His face was bright red and his voice was no longer anything close to being steady. Tears pricked at his eyes, making everything worse. But Victor was looking at him now and squeezed his hand, encouraging him to continue. “You don't have to tell me, Yuuri.”

"No, it's okay... um..."

.

_I wasn’t careful enough. I let him into my house while my parents were away for the weekend and two months later I realize I’m fucking pregnant with his child. I was having a baby, I was unmarried and not even twenty years old._

_But even still, I was happy. I had always wanted kids and knew that God put that baby in my life for a reason. I had been going to college, but those plans got put off after I discovered the pregnancy. So I dropped out, moved back home and helped my parents out wherever I was needed. I told the baby’s father, and he seemed okay with it too, but he said we’d have to go west together to avoid being shamed for a child out of wedlock, since he had no intention to marry me._

_I did my best to hide the baby that fall, but in October, my mom found out and forced the truth out of me. She was horrified of what had happened, what I was_ willing _to let happen. So they sent me to stay with my sister, and my sister ushered me along to an aunt of her husband’s. Everywhere I went I was treated like what I had done was criminal. I got so sick of it that I contacted my baby’s father and told him I was willing to run away with him now, that I abandoned the idea of school and a life in the east and was willing to go wherever he would take me._

_He told me he would meet me by the Bay, and so I stole a horse and hurried off to meet him. A- and then… then he…_

.

“Yuuri… you don’t have to tell me anything more if you’re not comfortable with it, I’d understand if you—” Victor squeezed Yuuri's shaking hands and met his eyes. There was no way he'd ever be ready for what he heard next. 

“He shot his gun at my horse to scare it and I was thrown…and… oh, so much more happened after that, but I _lost my son_ because of _him_!” Yuuri’s sobs stabbed Victor’s heart and filled him with an instant hatred for the man— no, the _monster_ — who did this to his Yuuri. No person should ever have to experience what Yuuri did, and the moment he found out this man’s name, he would hunt him down and _kill_ — “And... ah—To-Today was my due-date.”

.

It was pitch black when they found their way back to camp, both feeling significantly worse than before, if even possible. Yuuri climbed into the wagon without acknowledging the expectant Nishigori’s, but Victor was sure to thank them for watching their son for the evening.

After that, he retired for the night, refusing the idea of giving Yuuri his space, because where he was laying— facing the side of the wagon, literally covering his face with his hands and weeping bitterly, curled in on himself, implied that he was hurting worse than before and it was up to Victor to reassure him that he didn’t think any less of him for having a child before. And while he didn’t say this, he thought that if Yuuri had replied to his ad two years ago saying that he had a son already, Victor still would’ve accepted. He loved Yuuri with all his heart and he knew from the first letter with that picture that he always will.

Toeing off his boots, Victor moved across the bedroll and touched Yuuri’s arms, dismayed when he flinched reflexively. “Oh, _Yuuri_ … come here, darling…”

“Are you mad at me, Victor?” Yuuri said between sobs, “Are you going to throw me aside because I’m nothing but filth?”

“ _Filth_ ?” Victor repeated, a little bit louder than he intended. “God no, Yuuri… nothing’s changed between us! I still love you just as much, if not more! And I’m so _proud_ of you for telling me about this. I can’t imagine how hard it must’ve been, keeping this to yourself!” He felt a little bit relieved when Yuuri eased into his arms, but his heart still ached for him. It didn’t take long for Victor to start crying, too. “So what did you do, love? D-Did anyone come and help you, or were you—”

“The Giacometti’s. Chris and Lara found me the next day.” Yuuri’s voice was quiet as a mouse. “They took me in, since I knew no one else would have me. I stayed there for several months while I recovered. I was so hurt… and he hurt me before, plenty of times, but… that was the first time he…”

“He raped you.”  
  
Yuuri swallowed hard and nodded. A moment later, he clung to Victor like his life depended on it. “I knew after that… that I could never trust anyone again. But now I… I feel differently now? It took a long time to get here, Victor, and I feel so _bad_ for not being able to reciprocate your affections and show you the love you deserve.. It wasn’t until the train derailed that I realized just how much I need you. And I don’t want to be away from you anymore! And while part of that is because of how much I love you, there’s more to it than that! I’m afraid that he’s going to find me and claim me as his, because that’s common law, and that scares me so terribly that sometimes I can’t sleep!”

“Yuuri—”

“What can we do if he _does_ come back, Victor? He’d be in the right after all, and then I’d never see you or Yura again and he would just—”  
  
“No, Yuuri, he would never get that far. First of all, common law is dead. By actual law, we are married. I have the license with me to prove it. And secondly, if no one accepted that, I’d just have to kill him.”  
  
“ _Kill him_ ? Victor, then I’d lose you!”  
  
“No, you wouldn’t. If I killed that man, not another soul would know but you and I. Even so, I don’t think he’ll ever find us out here. You have nothing to worry about.”

“Nothing to worry about, huh?” Yuuri scoffed. “Saying that doesn’t help at all.”

***

April 17th, 1857

 

_Well, it marks a week since we started this and we still have at least two more to go. Victor says we’re making good time, but I know he wishes we could have saved that first day when we had to stop by the river. One extra day doesn’t matter to me. Since Wednesday’s embarrassment, I have stayed incredibly close to my husband due to the need to avoid the curious looks I’ve been receiving since that event. Yesterday, Dee Finn, (whose real name is Derrick Parker, and his brother Jesse is on this trail, too) came and walked by me for awhile. He talked to me about essentially everything but my nervous fit, which I didn’t mind. I learned that he is only eighteen, and Miles is thirty nine. (He looks so much older!)_

_But when I asked what the circumstances were, why he had to marry a man twenty-one years older, he brushed me off and insisted that there was nothing to worry about. Victor often says the same thing, not to worry, but I still do just as much, and sometimes even more. But ever since I told Victor the truth about my son and even admitted his name for the first time, things have felt better, somehow. I know that the man I fear most could come back, but Victor helps me to think rationally. He_ won’t _. How could he possibly find me? And if he did know where I was, wouldn’t he have come for me ages ago?_

_My son, my darling son..._

.

_April 18th, 1857_

_Victor says tomorrow we will stop by the trading post run by the Giacometti’s! Since it will be Sunday, perhaps we can rest and visit for a few hours. I do so miss Lara and I wonder why she hasn’t received any of my letters. There’s so much I want to tell her, and tomorrow I finally can!_

 

***

On Saturday, Yuuri found himself practically bouncing with excitement. He had longed for the entirety of the past two years to see the Giacometti girls again. They’d done so much for him and now he had the chance to show Lara just how much he’d grown because of her and her daughters. He wondered if perhaps they were married yet or doing anything with their lives. Perhaps they went to college back east, who knows. It was his happiest day on the trail since they’d started. For once, he was actually looking forward to something.

Late in the morning while Yuuri was once again walking with Derrick Parker, Yura tugged his sleeve and offered him a bouquet of wildflowers that they’d admired from afar perhaps a mile back. Judging by the expression his son wore, he didn’t pick them himself, but he later admitted that he pointed them out to Victor and suggested they bring some to Yuuri. It was sweet of both of them. Yuuri kept one of the flowers in between the pages of his journal.

That evening after supper, Victor took Yuuri down to the river so they could bathe for the following day. To Victor’s surprise, Yuuri actually wanted to get in the water with him at the same time and didn’t seem to shy away at all. In fact, he took their bar of soap and washrag, gently set them in Victor’s hands and asked in the most sweetest of voices, “Will you wash me?”

And how could Victor possibly refuse _that_? He’d watched Yuuri bathe plenty of times and even helped him wash once when he had his concussion over the winter, but now was an even more intimate chance… “Of course, love. Come here.”

Yuuri blushed, but he moved until he and Victor were nearly chest to chest. “Be careful. People might see us.”

“Then shall we swim deeper?” Victor whispered.

Ignoring the worry of someone spotting them, Yuuri let his heart decide for him. “Yeah.”

.

That night, despite the persistent ache between his legs, Yuuri felt good. Really good. He might have even fell asleep smiling.

That would all end on April 19th, when they reached the Giacometti trading post. Yuuri wore his best casual wear, he was freshly washed and combed his hair again in the morning. Victor was a bit lazy, he drank a bit too much the day before and had a headache. Yuuri gave him a kiss and an aspirin, and told him to rest for awhile because he had gotten plenty of experience in steering wagons. And since it was a straight shot, how terribly could he fail?

“I’ll see how I’m feeling in an hour, but thank you, love.”

.

Yuuri made them breakfast. He was careful not to burn or undercook anything and arguably his pancakes were his personal best. They were golden brown and didn’t taste like flour, so he took that as a success. He brought his husband and son their breakfasts on the tin plates they’d brought for use on the journey and then sat back beside Victor to eat. If it wasn’t raining, they’d eat outside, but that didn’t matter. Not even the weather could bring Yuuri down that morning.

While Yura went back to sleep and Victor spent his morning ailing his headache, Yuuri steered their wagon in a straight line for almost twelve miles until they were close to a small trading post. There were gravestones nearby, but whether or not he noticed them remained unknown. Miles Finn brought everyone to a stop; they agreed to put a halt to things for two hours so everyone could stock up and eat lunch. Yuuri was the first to get out of his wagon, and, pulling Victor along with him, was also the first to enter the shop. “Christophe!” Yuuri grinned the moment he laid eyes on one of the two people that had saved his life. It was a small room, hardly the size of his bedroom back in Independence, but was filled with various things that he could tell were needed by the travelers based on their complaints. It was convenient. 

Chris blinked once, twice, but his expression failed to change. He looked so much _older_. “What are you doing all the way out here, Yuuri?”

“We’re moving to Nebraska, but we wanted to stop in and see you! Where’s Lara?” Looking around the small store, he couldn’t see anyplace that made it evident anyone lived there, but perhaps the Giacometti’s lived in a home nearby?  
  
Chris appeared pained at the question. He removed his glasses and rubbed at his eyes, then pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment. “Lara? She’s not here anymore, Yuuri.”

“Not here?” He echoed. “What do you mean? Where are the girls?”  
  
Chris simply shook his head. “No one here but me. Now, are you actually going to buy anything, or are you just going to stand there?” He put his glasses back on and pretended to focus on the manuscript in front of him. “Sales have been decent this year, Victor. I’ve hired help around here. I’m thinking of taking a trip east.”  
  
“Do whatever you’d like, Chris. You are a hard worker, and—”  
  
Yuuri slammed his hand down on the table overtop Chris’ manuscript. “ _Where’s Lara_?!”

And Chris was angered by Yuuri’s demands, as if he believed Yuuri had known the answer all along. He stood, nudging Yuuri’s arm so he could take his manuscript. He tucked it into a drawer below the counter and came out so that he was standing face to face with Yuuri. “She didn’t want to come here, she never did. She only came because she wanted to see you off. She _hated_ this land, she told me so before your wedding. And I didn’t listen to her because I thought it was too late to go back, I’d already sold the house. Because I wanted to help Victor and get a taste of his wealth. I was _so_ wrong for trusting a Nikiforov again, but I’m not the one that had to pay for it.” He gripped Yuuri’s shoulders. “You know it’s your fault, don’t you? You took everything from me!”

“Chris, stop.” Victor took Yuuri’s other hand, and Yuuri was stuck between the two, wide eyed and confused. “Let’s go, Yuuri.”

“What is going on, Victor? Do you know something I…?”  
  
“Chris clearly doesn’t want to see us and I’m not about to pry.”  
  
“Let him see, Victor! Don’t you want to know, too?” Chris kicked open the door, and the three of them wound up outside after Chris’ tug. “Tell your husband with a straight face that you _honestly_ didn’t stop and read these damn gravestones the five times you’ve passed this post since the wedding!”

.  
  
L. M. Giacometti

1839-1855

 

L. G. Giacometti  
1839-1855

.

With every penny on him, Yuuri reentered the post later that day. Chris was back in the position he’d been in when Yuuri first saw him earlier, but now there was an unfamiliar man standing by the back door. Yuuri ignored him and slid the coins across the counter. 

“Feeling better now?” Chris asked casually, then he started to whistle some tune often played at funerals that Yuuri could never name. “Bet you didn’t see _that_ coming when you both decided to come out here.”

“Of course I didn’t. Lara must be gone too, then? Where is her grave?” Yuuri's eyes were swollen from crying and Chris started to pity the poor thing, but how could he not have known? It had been two years with no correspondence, and even a fool would guess that things went south. 

“The shop is closed now,” Chris tried to say, but Yuuri cut him off with, “Get me something to drink, and then I want you to tell me how she died.”

.

“We got nothing more than rain the entire trip. It took us three weeks to get here because wagons kept getting stuck in the mud, or the trail flooded, it was hell. No, it was probably God’s sign to turn back. The girls got colds, but they were alright. Others had it worse, and my wife was the first to help, of course. She stayed by these kids while they were sick, there was something in the water. When we finally got to this damn trading post, Lara was sick, too, probably worse than anyone else, but the sickness killed our girls.” Chris said calmly, as if he hadn’t just recently lost both of his children and was completely satisfied with his circumstances. He poured Yuuri a drink and passed it across the counter.

“So we were left alone. Aaaand she decided that she couldn’t bare to live with me anymore; deaths of kids tends to do that to marriages. She left right away, I don’t know where, and we’re divorced now. I have no idea where she is or if she’s alive.”

Yuuri frowned, but somehow he felt relieved that Lara wasn't confirmed dead.. “I’m sorry. If I had known that my actions would have caused this outcome, I… well, I would’ve…”  
  
“Ah, I don’t want to hear none of that, Yuuri. You aren’t at fault and I’m not as hurt as I was. I’m seein’ someone new now. Lara is a wonderful woman and I don’t have any harsh feelings towards her. It just didn’t work out once we lost the girls. We had them 9 months after our wedding, so we never really had to live with just each other. They were Lara’s whole world. Losing them made her lose herself. I wasn’t going to keep her any place she wasn’t happy.”

He bowed his head. “I’m really sorry, Chris.”

Chris sighed. He stood and pulled Yuuri closer to him from across the counter, then kissed his brow. “So am I.”

.

_April 19th, 1857_

_Lara,_

_For two years now, I have been waiting to hear from you. For two years, I’ve been wondering why you haven’t written me back. I was so lonely sometimes that I just wanted to die, as drastic as that sounds. I really needed to talk to you. I was counting on us to continue correspondence after you left. Even if you went through a tough time and divorced Chris, you came back this way, didn’t you? You did not go west. You came back towards Independence and didn’t even think of seeing me. How could you? I needed you! You said you’d always be there for me! HOW CAN YOU SAY YOU’LL BE THERE FOR ME NO MATTER WHAT AND THEN JUST LEAVE?!_

.

Supper was eaten by the fire, as always, but tonight things seemed a little bit different. Yuuri felt nothing but somberness and his determination to go to their wagon the moment his plate was empty and cry his eyes out for the rest of the night, there was a different attitude among the other travelers. 

Yuuri wondered if that was due to the beer they’d chipped in and bought from the trading post. Two young adults; brother and sister, were seated at a nearby fire. The girl started to sing. Her voice was high pitched, the kind that usually led songs, and her brother followed. Their voices weren't terrible, but they seemed like the kind you'd hear in the back of a choir. 

Yuuri glanced from the girl to his husband, who was actually standing near the siblings. _They_ _shouldn’t be singing. Nobody should. Lara’s gone and the girls are dead._

The siblings started to sing [a familiar tune](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3P9X_o_FMHc), but they weren't that good, honestly. Yuuri started to stand up when another instrument filled the air, with much more precision and… captiveness. He knew Victor could play several instruments but hadn’t been aware of them bringing any.

_Let us pause in life's pleasures and count its many tears,_  
_While we all sup sorrow with the poor;_  
_There's a song that will linger forever in our ears;_  
_Oh! Hard times come again no more._

Victor started to play a fiddle alongside the siblings. That part wasn't surprising, his husband loved to be the center of attention. The three of them trying to sing together, though, that was. Mostly because they weren’t getting the words right, and it was just downright embarrassing. _Why play the song if you can’t sing it?_ Yuuri shook his head. He found himself creeping towards the makeshift band and essentially stopping them once the girl completely mumbled the words of the chorus. He stopped them.  
  
“You don’t know this song well, do you?” Yuuri sighed, taking a seat beside Victor. “And it’s not really a dancing song. What inspired you to play it?”  
  
“It seemed fitting.” Mumbled the girl, her cheeks turning red from his criticism. Yuuri simply shook his head again, wondering what had gotten into him. “Alright, how about we try that part again, from the top. Just follow after me.”

_'Tis the song, the sigh of the weary,_  
_Hard Times, hard times, come again no more._  
_Many days you have lingered around my cabin door;_  
_Oh! Hard times come again no more._

Yuuri remembered the song, word for word, because he sang it often after he first heard it not long after his son died. It meant something to him, and now it really, as the girl said, seemed fitting. 

_There's a pale drooping maiden who toils her life away,_  
_With a worn heart whose better days are o'er:_  
_Though her voice would be merry, 'tis sighing all the day,_  
_Oh! Hard times come again no more._

And when the final verse began, Yuuri closed his eyes, his voice leading the little chorus, who seemed farther away now. The music played steadily, and he lost himself in it..

_'Tis a sigh that is wafted across the troubled wave,_  
_'Tis a wail that is heard upon the shore_  
_'Tis a dirge that is murmured around the lowly grave_  
_Oh! Hard times come again no more......_

When the song ends, Yuuri is met with too many surprised faces to count, and suddenly he doesn’t feel so okay. He turned to Victor's gaping face. "What?"

“I didn’t know you could sing, love,” Victor whispered, as if he _too_ is surprised. “That was beautiful. Can you sing it again?”

He nodded, but this time he sang alone, his voice strong and never wavering. Yura came and sat with him, watching in wonder as if Yuuri's voice was the most beautiful thing he'd ever heard. (A lot of people looked that way)

But Yuuri's focus was the two little gravestones beside the trading post as he reflected on the girls who'd done so much for him whose lives were cut so short... 

As he sang the words to the girls, he thought back to one of Victor's first letters to him all that time ago, when things had been so much more different. Victor said people would sing around fires just like this and it was like being home. Victor had no home back then, Yuuri firmly believed, and it was sorrowing to think that moments like this were the closest he felt to having a family. Well, not anymore. Yuuri broke his gaze from the graves and looked at Victor, steadily singing the last words, knowing Victor prays for just what the song says, too...

_Oh! Hard times come again no more..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Be sure to bookmark the Frontier AU series (if possible) because at some point I am going to post Victor's complete backstory (I presume it will be as long as a typical chapter, but I can't confirm it.) complete with Yuri Plisetsky's father and his involvement in getting Victor to the west, how Victor and Chris met, and other goodies.
> 
> 2\. I'm sure you are thinking that the minor character death tag has something to do with Lara or her daughters. It does not. I had to add an entire chapter onto this series to explain why. 
> 
> 3\. I reread this fic while I was on vacation last week and Jesus is this an angsty piece of work? How did I not realize that when I was writing it... 
> 
> 4\. In case you didn't pick up on it, the song at the end is called hard times come again no more by Steven Foster from 1854, I believe. I linked someone's cover of it. Should I make a playlist? Maybe?
> 
> See you next time!
> 
> Next time: After a betrayal, Victor leads the travelers to Fort Laramie in Wyoming in hopes that his brother will take over and help them get to Oregon. Meanwhile, Yuuri tends to the deathly ill Dee Parker-Finn and is unsettled by the eery similarities between himself and the younger man when tragedy strikes.


	8. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh, I don't think things could get much worse, so let me break it down quickly:
> 
> 1\. Their trail guide isn't who he seems.  
> 2\. Yuuri (and Victor, too) is in grave danger again.  
> 3\. So is Dee, though.

October, 1860 

Dover, Delaware

“Did _you_ see who came into town this evening?” out of breath, the excitable old Mrs. Plum bursts into her dear friend Minako’s room in the home they shared after her daily evening stroll. She is back quite early. “I could hardly believe my eyes!”  
  
“Who was it, the president?” Minako is focused on a sketch at her desk of a gull by the shore and does not pause to hear who, as she is certain it is no one of true importance.

“Your godson! Your godson, Yuuri Katsuki, and he’s—”  
  
“ _What_?!”

.

None of the Katsuki’s neighbors were surprised to see Minako’s coach clamboring down the road early the following morning. Word spread fast that Yuuri had returned after five years and many were curious of what was to happen next, but most minded their business and decided to wait and see for themselves just what everyone had been talking about.

Except Minako.

Yuuri hasn't so much as written since he left almost six years ago and it hurt her heart. Still, she isn't going to confront him about it publicly and is simply going to be happy to see him again (and perhaps order a few gifts for him afterwards).

She steps out of the coach and stops short of the fence when she sees a strange, rugged looking man standing in the Katsuki garden. _Now who on earth is…_ She watches his muscles as he swings the ax over his head, then splits the log in half. He catches sight of her before his second swing and freezes, ax still in mid air when he speaks, “Ah, sorry, are you—”

“I am here to call on Hiroko Katsuki and her son. Do tell her that I am here.”

.

It’s been five years since Minako has visited with the Katsuki’s and admittedly she has stayed quite out of the loop as to what was going on. The last she heard of her godson there had been quite a scandal going on between him and a boy in town, but she refused to hear of it. And when he moved away, she assumed that he had simply married the man he was scandalized with.

Apparently, she is wrong. Very wrong.

For when Yuuri comes downstairs holding a _baby_ in his arms and she assumes something that turns out to be very incorrect by saying, “Oh, I knew you’d marry him! Now, where is — ? I never thought he’d straighten out.” She essentially destroys Yuuri’s opinion of her. And everyone else’s. They all stare at her like she’s just spoken in tongues! What, is she missing something?

“Ah, Minako, that’s not correct, ah…” Hiroko hurries to stand at her old friend’s side and hurriedly whispers to her, _they aren’t married! Yuuri is married to Vicchan, the man outside!_

“Oh! Oh, goodness!” Minako covers her mouth. “Do forgive me, no one tells me anything around here!” She walks up to Yuuri, who is still gaping at her. He almost looks angry. How can he be angry?! He hasn’t written to her in years! “My, look how much you’ve—”  
  
Yuuri looks to his mother. “Why didn’t you tell anyone I got married?”

“We did, we told anyone who asked…”  
  
“Minako’s my godmother, she should’ve been the first to know.” Yuuri says.

“Then why didn’t _you_ tell me?” Minako asks quietly. She can see the situation heading south and decides to change the subject right away. “Um, _anyway_ … who’s this? Another godchild for me to spoil?”  
  
“Her name is Lara. She was born on the first day of autumn.”   
  
“Oh, she’s just a little one, isn’t she!” Minako shakes her head. “You should be _resting_ , Yuuri Katsuki…”

“To be fair, he was until you showed up.” Hiroko murmurs.

.

“So. Tell me about him.” Yuuri and his mother sit side by side in the backyard that afternoon. Victor has taken Yura to the water as it is quite warm this afternoon, and his father is in his office.

“Ah… what do I say first?” Yuuri chuckles. “He’s different, I guess, than anyone else I’ve ever been with. And older, too, but that’s beside the point. Um…” He looks down at his sleeping daughter and can’t help but to smile. “He’s a good father and a great husband. I couldn’t ask for anyone better.”

“You’re glowing, Yuuri. I’ve never seen you so content.” She adds. “How did he react to the pregnancy, when you first told him?”  
  
Yuuri sighs. “Ah… he was quite surprised, you could say that. But he’s always wanted more kids, so he’s happy, too.”  
  
“And what possessed him to bring all of you over here?”  
  
“That I don’t know. I suspect he’s trying to surprise me in some way, but I can’t figure out how or what it is.” There’s no way that Victor wanted to come here just to visit. They could’ve gone at any time in the last five years, but they didn’t. Victor claims it is to let Yuuri “rest”, but he hasn’t done much resting at all with all the traveling they’ve done. “And it’s not like I asked to come here, anyway. I haven’t in years.”

To Yuuri’s mother, that statement hurts. But she has no right to feel angry about it when she’s the one that cast him out in the first place, when it wasn’t even his fault for what happened. And then his baby died, and by then she felt it was too late to ask Yuuri to stay, not when he seemed like an entirely different person and made his decision to go west.

He’s changed, a lot, and in a good way, too. She just wants him to know that and isn’t sure how to convey it.

“Mom?”  
  
“Yes…?”  
  
“Why did you decide to stop having children after I was born?” Yuuri’s cheeks are red but Hiroko appreciates the question. She knows that he has no one else to ask.

“Well, it was a very difficult pregnancy, so was your brother’s and so was Mari’s. I wasn’t supposed to have any more after your brother, but… I’m so glad I did. Still…” She watches Yuuri carefully as if she can gather why Yuuri’s asking from his expressions. “Most people don’t get second chances and have to take the warnings seriously. No one’s lucky enough to get a second chance after what I went through with your birth. I think both of us are lucky to be alive. That’s why we decided that you were our last.”

“Ah.” Yuuri worries at his lip; an indicator that there is indeed a reason for him asking besides curiosity. “She… everything went okay with her birth, I guess? I bled a lot but that’s normal and I’d say I’m recovering alright. The reason I ask is because…” _God, I’m going to sound so foolish for admitting this…_ “Victor did not know about her until the day she was born, and I feel guilty for taking that experience from him, so… so I feel like in a year or two I should have another. I - I mean it’s the least I can —”

“Have you talked to him about this yet? Because it’s really not my place to tell you what you need to do. However, I don’t think you should bring another child into the world if your only reason is to make up for something. That’s not a genuine reason.”

“You’re probably right.” Yuuri nods. “I feel so stupid for not telling him. Nothing’s felt right since he came back and I’m not sure things are ever going to work out now…” _Don’t you dare start crying in front of your mother…_ “H-He treats me like um… like his son or something? That’s what he’s done this whole trip. I haven’t seen the real, honest him in months and he’s made absolutely no romantic advances and — I shouldn’t be saying all this about him, I’m sorry… he really is wonderful. We’ve just got some things we need to work out.”

“That’s apparent. Say, one of these days, why don’t you leave the baby with me for an afternoon and show him around? I’m sure the two of you could use some alone time.”

***

The Katsuki’s guests don’t attend church with them (to the curious people of Dover’s dismay) but that afternoon, Yuuri decided he needed some fresh air and it was recommended that he take a break from the baby. So he took Victor with him to show him around.

“Ah, that’s where I went to school.” Yuuri points across the road with his free arm, since he’s clutching Victor’s arm with his other.

“Hm… I never went to school.” Victor says casually, “Mom taught me what I needed to function in a working environment. Dad focused mostly on teaching me his trade.”  
  
“I want Yura to go to a good school. He’s so smart and he deserves it, but there’s nothing near us…”

“Maybe someday. He’s already smarter than I am, though.” Victor pauses when he notices how someone is looking at them through a shop window. Like they’re scandalous or something! “Oh God…” Yuuri hides his face in Victor’s arm. "Why  _them_..."

Victor frowns, and then waves at the person in the window. “We must be quite popular, then. Who is that?”  
  
“She’s… um, the wife of a man I was once rumored to date.”

Victor frowns. “Oh...did you—”

“No, he wanted to sleep with me and asked a few times. He even said he’d pay me, but I refused because he um…”  
  
“What?”

“I’m not one to gossip, but… it was said that he had diseases that were contagious and his wife has it now.”

“Oh. Wow… then what is she staring for?” Victor rolls his eyes. “People are annoying, the way they think they are superior when their secrets are far worse. I’ve a good mind to tell her off, but I won’t. She’s not worth it.”  _How can you be one to worry about diseases? That never stopped you before._

“No, she isn’t.” Yuuri unburies himself from Victor and adjusts himself. “Do you want to see the library? We could go down to the shores, too, it isn’t too far a ride.”

“To be honest, I’m really hungry.”  
  
“Me too. I’ve been bitching about dried food and have hardly eaten anything that wasn’t since we left. I know a great place for lunch.”

“Lead the way.”

.

“Jennie, Jennie, I just saw Yuuri—” Out of breath, the daughter-in-law of Mrs. Jennie Pierce— who was the mother of Yuuri’s infamous ex— meets Jennie in the middle of the street. They had were shopping together after service and it has been quite a pleasant experience until she saw _him_ …

“Yuuri Katsuki? Where?” She gasps, frantically looking around for him. “Was he with — ? Did you see my son?”

“No, Jennie, worse… he was with another man.”  
  
Jennie’s eyes widen. When her son came to her a year ago and announced that he was going to collect Yuuri from his current beau and bring him back to Dover to marry him, Jennie was… surprised, to say the least. But she supported him because her son was serious about Yuuri and claimed that they had been talking for some months now and Yuuri wanted to rekindle their relationship. So now that Yuuri is allegedly here without her son, she can’t help but be concerned!

“Where?”

The daughter-in-law points towards the glass of a restaurant. Squinting, she can faintly make out the dark of Yuuri’s hair through the window and frowns. “I will get to the bottom of this right away. Come, Sarah,” Jennie tugs her daughter-in-law’s arm and the two of them enter the restaurant.

“But Jennie…”

“No, I don’t care about manners.” She says, but her momentum is crushed the moment Yuuri himself brushes past them on the arm of an unfamiliar man. They are leaving.

“I thought that was delicious. It’s been years since I have had good seafood.” The man says, and Yuuri laughs. “The crabs were okay, I guess,”

“ _Yuuri_.” Jennie’s mouth moves before her brain can process it, and she follows him outside. “Yuuri Katsuki!” Yuuri used to visit her home quite often. She considered them to be good friends. He was always so sweet and polite to the family, so Jennie assumed he would be a perfect fit in the family. That is, until the whole pregnancy issue. Her son explained that Yuuri refused to marry him, effectively ruining his reputation, and ran away to have the baby. She wonders if that child is here, too. 

Yuuri appears startled and spins around on the porch of the restaurant to meet her (because he knew her voice at once), and the four of them kind of stare at each other. He has the audacity to smile at her, even though he's done such wrong! “Why, Mrs. Pierce, it’s been so long! How are you?”  
  
Jennie’s mouth hangs open for a few seconds more before she comes to her senses. “Excuse me, I thought my son had come to collect you last winter, but I have been mistaken, I can see you’re the same harlot as always.”

Yuuri isn’t fazed in the slightest. “I think you have me confused for someone else, Mrs. Pierce, this is my husband, Victor, and we are here with our daughter visiting my parents. Good evening.” He nods to Victor, and the two of them leave as if nothing happened. Mrs. Pierce and Sarah do not follow.

“That— that _whore_! That's why he's called the whore of Kent County!”

“Jennie…” Sarah winces as she feels the eyes of onlookers burning into her and Jennie because of her language.

“I shall call on the Katsuki’s in the morning. They need to turn out their son for doing this. I can’t believe it!”

***

“I feel bad for them, you know,” Yuuri says that evening. They are sitting in the sands of Kitts Hummock and Yuuri has a lot on his mind. Jennie Pierce calling him a harlot isn’t the worst thing he’s been referred to as, but it has been awhile since anyone’s had reason to say such a thing, since nobody west of Maryland knew anything about his history. Everyone out west saw him as an innocent saint, and he isn't sure which side of the country's assumptions are worse. “She has no idea what her son did to me. Even if she did, I don’t think she’d blame him. She never asked about anything, even when it was obvious.”

“Whore of Kent County, huh?” Victor whistles. “Over sleeping with three men. There are men that have slept with hundreds of people, who visit prostitutes daily. And they aren’t called whores.”

“You know why.” Yuuri mumbles. “But anyway, it doesn’t bother me anymore. I made my mistakes and that time is over now.”

 

There is a silence between them and Yuuri doesn’t like it. The air feels stiff— as it has all afternoon. He’s starting to feel hopeless. “H-How about we go up to the inn? We can rent a room for the evening.”

.

“Tell me about the significance of this inn,” Victor says, fumbling with the key to their room. Mari provided them with one of the best on the very top floor, in a suite, even when Yuuri insisted it wasn’t neccessary as they weren’t staying overnight. “You lost your virginity in one of these rooms, right?” The door swings open.

“Why would you say that right now?” Yuuri doesn't mean to sound so aggressive, but he isn’t going to apologize. Because seriously? This is how their interactions have been for far too long. Yuuri doesn't even feel married at this point, things are that tense...

Victor shrugs and walks into the room. He takes off his jacket and sets it on one of the chairs by an unlit fire, then stands in front of the windows to view the ocean. “I think it’s educational to be here. I get to learn so much about who you are.”

“Who I _was_ , I - I’m nothing like I was back then.” Yuuri shuts the door. He can sense an argument on the horizon, just like the storm clouds rolling in over the seas… Victor’s grip on the chair by the window is white knuckled. “Have I done something wrong?”

He didn’t receive a reply.

“I’m… sorry if I have, but… I don’t know what situation that would’ve been.” He creeps up behind his husband but hesitates to touch him. “Victor…”

“I know that a lot has changed over the past five years for you, but maybe not as much as I thought. Maybe some things haven’t changed at all…”  
  
“What…?”  
  
“You still are deceitful and have an instinct to lie. You only think of yourself. You never care to notice how your actions affect others.”

“Th-that’s not true at all! What on earth do you—”

“If you had suspected that — had been at our house over the winter, why the fuck wouldn’t you have told me about it? You knew he had been there before you knew you were pregnant, and that’s what pisses me off the most! You told me in the past when you thought he was following us, so why was this time different?! Did you _know_ he was around, were you not surprised??”

Yuuri bows his head. "You don't know anything."

“He told me that you two had been talking when I wasn’t around and I didn’t want to believe it, I still don't want to. I didn’t want to believe a lot of what he said before I killed him. Now I don’t know what’s true and what’s not.” Victor turns around. “He said it wasn’t three like you told me, it was ten different men, sometimes multiple at one time. He told me there’s pictures.”

“Victor, please…”  
  
“And everyone in this town knows about it, right? How many people have seen these pictures? Are they hung up somewhere? I bet people think I’m ridiculous for being with you.”

Victor can almost hear Yuuri’s heart breaking. He hates that he has to say all of this, but he's tired of keeping it in. It's dragging him down, the longer he stays quiet.. “I’m just trying to understand _why_ … why you hid her from me, why you didn’t tell me that he might've been around, why you never tell me the truth. What am I supposed to believe is true anymore?”

“Okay.” Yuuri backs up until he is pressed against the door, his eyes wide and filled with tears. “In that case, if you - if you believe a _rapist_ and _murderer_ over my word, then perhaps… well, you two have the murderer part in common, but still—” He can seldom get his words out or see clearly — he’s _devastated_ — “Lara and I will get out of your way.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“I understand that you're confused, okay? I really do... I know you're hurt, but I'm hurt too.. I've been hurt for years and it's never going to go away. It gets worse every time I think about you talking to him, the lies he must've told you that you  _believe_... I'm not sure I can stand it."

***

 

* * *

Across the Midwest

April-May 1860

“You’ll sing for us again tonight, won’t you?” Dee pats Yuuri’s arm in passing, two days later on an especially slow day. He seems tired, but the train is slow moving today and it is hot, so…

“Maybe.” Yuuri smiled and managed to catch up with him before he walked too far ahead. “Hey, how are you and the baby doing today? You look tired.”

“Oh, I’m fine.” Dee said, hugging himself. “Everyone gets tired, Yuuri, and Miles doesn’t want me in the wagon. I already rode in it half of yesterday, besides.”

“Yes, but you’re pregnant. You need rest. It’s not good for you to do all this walking, especially when you’re tired.”

“He’s mad at me right now. Don’t ask me to bother him over something so trivial.”  
  
“Trivial, huh?” Yuuri glanced back at his own wagon. “Come sit with us, then. Victor won’t mind.”

“I- I could never impose myself like that—”  
  
“It’s no trouble at all. You helped me the other day. Let me help you.”

“Are you sure?”  
  
“Yeah, come with me.”

Dee hesitated for a moment, but as he didn’t see his husband anywhere, he followed Yuuri and accepted his help in climbing into the back of the wagon. He watched as Yuuri set out one of his own bedrolls and a pillow. “Rest for as long as you want, okay? Have you eaten today?”

“No.” Even though he rested on a very thin bedroll, to Dee, it felt like a cloud.

“Then I’ll get you something. Would you like another pillow? I do hate sleeping in here, the floor is so uncomfortable.” Yuuri sifted through a small crate. “Do you like licorice?”

“What on earth would you bring licorish for?”  
  
“Personal enjoyment.” Yuuri said, taking a strip of the candy and biting a piece off. “This trip doesn’t have to be hell.”

“Says the guy only going to Fort Kearney.” Dee rolled his eyes playfully.

“Touche. Do you have any cravings yet? When I was—” Yuuri cut himself off. “Ah, I know a lot of people get cravings when they’re pregnant.”

“This is going to sound ridiculous, but,” Dee stifled a laugh, “um, I’ve been craving pretzels with jam.”  
  
“That’s a first…” Yuuri said slowly. “I don’t have any jam... We’ll have to invest.”  
“Oh, you don’t have to—”  
  
“You know what? Yuuko mentioned having jam when I spoke with her yesterday. Wait right here!”

.

When the wagons pulled to a halt that evening, Dee’s demeanor most certainly changed. He was quite pleasant to talk with, Victor found; he was clever and knew a lot about the land and the history of the trail (my was he talkative!), but the moment Miles pulled everyone to a halt, he paled and didn’t talk much anymore.

Once Victor had everything set for the evening, Dee climbed out of the wagon looking as if he’d just attended a funeral. “Thank you for everything, but I guess I should be heading back now.”

“Must you?” Victor exchanged a glance with Yuuri, who nodded. “You should stay with us for supper, we’d love to have you. And I’m sure Yuuri will sing for us again.”

“No, I - I really shouldn’t. Miles will worry about where I’ve wandered off to.” He said sadly. “But tomorrow, maybe? Thanks again.”

Neither of them missed the way Dee flinched when Miles shouted for him from across the camp. Yuuri decided from that moment on to keep a close eye on him.

.

“Hey.” Victor pointed towards their son after supper. He was seated in the field, like the rest of them, but had his back facing them and shoulders to slumped. Something was clearly bothering him. “I worry about him out here. I mean, I know he’s always quiet, but…”

“He’s lonely, too. Not that he doesn’t like the Nishigori girls, but… he needs someone his own age.” Yuuri added. “And he looks so glum…”

“Perhaps I should go talk to him?” Victor started to stand, but Yuuri pulled him back down. “No, not out in the open like this. You know how shy he is. Wait until later, and we both will.”

“He does like you better…”

“It’s not that he likes me better, I’m just easier to come to than you are. You’re intimidating.”  
  
“ _Me_ , intimidating? How on earth…?”  
  
“You’re double his height and don’t care to speak quietly to him or stoop down to his level, and haven’t spent nearly as much time with him as I have…”

“So what should I do, then?”

Yuuri hummed to himself. “Well, when Mari believed that my father showed me favoritism, our mother insisted that he take Mari under his wing for a while to strengthen their relationship.”

“Did it work?”

“I’d say.”

“Well, do you trust me to stay with him tomorrow? Perhaps I’ll try.”  
  
“Why wouldn’t I trust you with your own child?” Yuuri poked him. “Just be careful. He _is_ only six years old.”

“Now it seems like you _don’t_ trust me.” Victor chuckled. “So I take him tomorrow and see what happens. What are you going to do?”

“I think I’m going to walk with Dee again. Something isn’t right about him and I worry…”  
  
“What, that Miles is a piece of shit?”  
  
“Victor, hush…” Yuuri looked around to make sure they weren’t being overheard. “He said he’s due at the end of the summer. That baby isn’t coming in September if he’s already showing that much. I suspect that baby was made out of wedlock and they’re trying to cover it up.”

“How can you be sure?”  
  
“I had my son at twenty-six weeks— that’s almost seven months, mind you— and only recently had it been really noticeable. Dee’s even smaller than I am but showing that much and possibly more and I suspect he’s a lot closer to his due date than he can admit.” Yuuri didn’t realize his fists were clenched, so he let them relax and sighed. “I just want to keep an eye on him.”

.

That night, after the bedrolls were arranged and Yura had changed into his pajamas, Yuuri remembered to ask him about what was going on. He trapped their son in between them so there was no escape and dimmed their lantern. “Yura…”

“I want to sleep on the edge.”

“In a minute, but first we need to talk to you.” Yuuri crossed his legs. “You’ve been looking really glum, Yura. I know that this move must be hard for you… and we’ve gone through a lot this year..”  
  
“Can you just leave me alone?” Yura said in a bravely defensive tone. “I want to sleep.”

“Now, mind your tone.” Victor chided, only enraging the boy further.

“You want me to talk, then you _don’t_ want me to talk??” Yura stood up.

“ _Yura_ —”

“No, _shut up_ and leave me _alone_!”

Yuuri decided to take matters into his own hands before Victor lost his temper (his face was red and he was giving the boy a dangerous look). “Yura, lie down and go to sleep this instant. I don’t know what’s gotten into you, disrespecting your father like this.”  
  
“He’s not my father!!” Yura cried, stomping his foot. “And _you both are not my family_ !” He didn’t _mean_ to step on Victor’s foot, but it happened. And it intensified things.

“Anything else you want to say to me, boy?”

Yuuri sighed, knowing well that this wasn’t going to end the way he wanted it to. Because Yura didn’t realize the dangerous waters he was treading through and dared to start to say “I _hate_ you”. Fortunately, Yuuri stopped him before those words were cemented and ordered him in just as stern of a voice as Victor’s had been to go to bed.

This time, he listened.

.

“He _hates_ me. I can’t believe it.”  
  
Yuuri shrugged. “He’s a kid, he doesn’t know what that kind of hate is. He just wanted to say something that sounded intense.”  
  
“Or he really does hate me. I wouldn’t doubt that.” Victor kicked a rock off the path they were walking early the next morning. Hardly anyone was awake yet and those who were most likely held grievances towards this talkative pair.

“So maybe he thinks he does. What, are you going to mope about it forever or actually do something about it?” Yuuri squeezed his hand. “Come on, I won him over easily.”  
  
“That’s because you’re much more likeable.”  
  
“Okay, tell that to everyone residing in Dover, Delaware,” Yuuri muttered. “You’re still going to watch him today, but easing the tension might not be an overnight thing. You’ll have to keep working on it, Victor, and it doesn’t end when he doesn’t hate you anymore. You have to keep at it.”

Victor shook his head. “What did I get myself into here…”

“Victor…” Yuuri held back a remark and decided to shift the subject slightly. “So, um… you never did tell me why exactly he was placed in your care. You aren’t blood.”

“No, we aren’t. It confused me as well, being that he does have living relatives on both his parents’ sides. But none of them bothered me or tried to fight the arrangement. I believe his parents were not married.” He paused. “I was in his father’s will.”  
  
“But why?”  
  
“Well, I owed him one, that’s for sure. He helped me get back on my feet once I had no place left to go.” Yuuri looked confused. “Ah, it’s a long story, but after my parents and I came to America, I didn’t follow them west. I stayed on the east coast for quite some time and wasn’t successful in anything I did. I met Yura’s father at one of my three different jobs of the time and we got to talking… he made investments and such in western businesses. It’s boring stuff to talk about now, since he’s dead and I didn’t get a cent from him, but to make things simple he essentially sponsored my trip west if I could bring him back something of great value.”

“And did you?”  
  
“Sure. I found some gold, good land for farming, furs and other trinkets. And I introduced him to Yura’s mother.”

Yuuri smiled. “Was it love at first sight?”  
  
“I’d say.”  
  
“Then I can’t imagine why they wouldn’t have married right away. If what you say is true, then… they would have had plenty of time to do so.”  
  
“Well, old Mr. Plisetsky wasn’t the settling down kind of man. He liked to travel and enjoy his money without setting roots. She was the same way.” Victor looked at him for a moment. “See, I’m different. I want to settle with you.”

“I want to settle with you, too, that’s why I—”  
  
“But we can’t settle right here and now. I don’t want to set roots in a place that isn’t going to make you happy, I made that mistake in Independence, and I won’t let it happen again.”

Yuuri had a lot he wanted to say about that. How it didn’t matter where they lived as long as they were together, but his selfish side did long for the finer things in life (well, not exactly a manor in the middle of the forest, but something decently sized and not apt to blow away in a storm) and to be in civilization, not isolated in the middle of nowhere. But he couldn’t say anything, because despite how Victor felt, his opinion wasn’t the only one that mattered. What if Victor liked living out here? What if living in a town made him unhappy?

So he just stopped. He pulled Victor into a hug and closed his eyes. He didn’t have to say anything.

Victor rested his chin on the top of Yuuri’s head and hugged him just as tightly. “It’s going to be alright, no matter where we end up. That I promise.”

***

_Thursday, April 23rd, 1857_

_The strangest thing happened today._

_Well, anyone who hasn’t experienced abuse themselves might call it strange. I know exactly what’s going on. For a fact, I can confirm that our trail guide, Miles Finn, abuses poor little Derrick Parker. Why on earth are they married? The age difference is striking and they have nothing in common. I have to assume it was an arranged marriage, but anyway…_

_I have not once seen or heard either of them argue, but how fearful Derrick seemed around his husband was the first indicator to me. Today confirmed it, and now I don’t know what to do._

_I thought I knew what to do. I approached him this morning and asked him to come walk by me or perhaps rest in our wagon if he needed it, and he asked me to please leave him alone. And when I tried to protest, Miles himself told me to leave him alone and lectured me about filling Derrick’s head with nonsense._

_I was so surprised that I didn’t know what to say!_

.

_Friday, April 24th, 1857_

_No sooner did we head out for the day than did I take Dee to my wagon because I couldn’t stand waiting around for something to happen anymore. He tried to protest like nothing was wrong but after just a few minutes tearfully admitted that Miles hits him from time to time, and that’s all I needed to know. I told him he could stay with us and we wouldn’t let Miles near him, but he declined. But I made him promise to come to us if it happened again and it would be dealt with._

_Then, he was on his way as if nothing happened. I felt so terrible for him in that moment that I actually started to cry._

_._

_Later_

_When we stopped this evening, Victor decided to take Yura out for a quick hunt to spice up our boring, dried meals. Several other men went out and Victor warned them to mind where they aimed as there was a child out there. So they took their sons. And there they were, a whole group of them chasing rabbits and squirrels and some giving up to go fishing instead. It looked kind of fun, and I asked Victor to take me next time. But Yura brought back the largest rabbit of the group and the smile he wore was a much greater prize, in my opinion. He was curious and followed Victor to sit by our wagon. He showed Yura how to prep it for dinner and such and Yura asked him if they could hunt more when we build our new house. “I’m counting on that, Yura.” Victor said._

_It started to rain late into the evening just as Victor and I finished washing the dishes, so there was to be no singing tonight. We retired early to our bedrolls and Victor decided to tell a few hunting stories to Yura before he fell asleep, some seeming unlikely but I wasn’t about to correct him. Yura fell asleep in between us, and Victor’s nodding off now. It’s my turn now._

.

_Saturday, April 25th— 2 am_

_Someone’s having a baby as I write this— I can hear their screams. Several have gone to help whoever it is, but I am too afraid because I think of my son’s birth every time someone mentions…_

_3:30_

_They had twins. The family has decided to turn back, I think. I don’t blame them, but what were they thinking coming out here when they were so close to having the babies in the first place?_

***

“I don’t like this river already.” Three days later, they were forced to cross yet another river, but this one was much wider and had no ferry. It seemed as if Miles was uncertain on the best method to cross, which didn’t make anyone feel good. Yuuri’s stomach churned as he watched the rushing water— it would have to go over his head, it isn’t nearly shallow enough to ford through… what would happen if they sunk…?

“Nikiforov,” Suddenly, their leader was standing by their wagon, and for once, didn’t look pissed. “What do you think about this river? I’ve had all sorts of trouble with it in the past, no matter which method I choose.”

“How deep is it?”  
  
“Eight and a half feet, I think. Maybe deeper in some spots."

Victor whistled. “I always built a raft to cross this when I had to. Didn’t take long since I was just one person, but for a wagon…” He squinted towards a small forest on the other side of the river. “Maybe if a few of us could get across, we could try and build a ferry.”  
  
“Who knows how long that might take or if the ferry would even work! We might just be wasting time.” Miles pointed out.

“That’s true, but I’m not sure, with the current as strong as it is here, that it’s safe for anyone to float their wagons across.” Victor folded his arms and continued to stare at the forest. “It’s not like we can test it out with anyone.”

“We might as well. If I let the people decide, we can find out.” He nodded to himself. “Sometimes, as a leader, you have to take chances.”

The test wagon made it across the river, and with that, Yuuri was left worrying himself mad in the long line to cross. He could swim, but even the strongest swimmers could be pulled under by a strong current.

They waited in line for two hours, and by the time it was their turn, Yuuri was ready to get sick. “What if we tip over? What if we tip over??” He fretted the moment the wagon was pulled near the bank.

“This isn’t the first time we’ve done it.” Victor called from outside the wagon. “You were fine last time.”

“Last time the river wasn’t this deep!!” Yuuri closed his eyes, trying not to focus on the rushing water in front of them. “Victor, why can’t we just _wait_ here?”  
  
“Wait for what? There’s nothing to wait for.” There was a rope tied firmly to both sides of the river to use as a guide for getting across safely, but it couldn’t be that sturdy. Ropes break all the time… “The river is always this deep and tons of people have crossed it before. Yes, there is a risk, but we have to cross it. We'll be fine, love.”

“You’re right, I - I guess…” Yuuri mumbled. The only thing he was thankful for was that Yura had already gotten across with the Nishigori’s, and if things really did go south, he was safe.

Yuuri looked down between a gap in the wagon’s floor at the water as Victor tugged them across, praying every prayer he knew that they wouldn’t sink.

It didn’t work. For when they were about halfway across at the very deepest and strongest point, while Yuuri practically turned green from sickness and Victor's hands were sure to be calloused after all the grip he had to use for this trip across, Yuuri heard a snap and knew they were, well, to word it accurately, fucked. The wagon started quickly moving sideways down the rushing river, Yuuri literally tied between shouting _I told you so!_ and something else, but just as he opened his mouth to speak, the wagon tipped.

Now… tipped is an understatement, because that makes it seem like it slowly turned sideways in a tiny stream two feet deep. But no, it was much more intense than that. The wagon capsized within three seconds of the rope snapping and suddenly Yuuri was thrown under the rushing water, escaping a chance of breathing as he could no longer see the surface, and he was trapped beneath heavy luggage.

He couldn’t see _anything_ , now.

_We tipped because we brought more than everyone else. Damn, it! I don't want to die!!!!_

After only a few seconds of struggling, the luggage was lifted and Yuuri felt his hand being grabbed, but whoever it was did not pull him, like they had given up… no! He wasn’t going to give up! With the last strength in him, Yuuri pulled the hand to where he knew the open back of the wagon should be, and swam up…. 

***

The sand felt warm against his cheek. Yuuri thought of Dover’s beaches in the summertime and how his mother would scold him for taking his shoes off because his feet burned on the hot sand, but he always did it anyway. He thought of taking naps against the sand after a swim and not needing a blanket because of its warmth. He smiled faintly at the memory. _Am I home…?_

And then reality hit him like a ton of bricks.

When he opened his eyes, he found that only his head was in the sand, the rest of his body was still in the river. His body ached, but he still managed to roll himself onto his back and look up at the sky. Some time must have passed since the river crossing as the sun was low in the sky, so if no one was looking now, he doubted they'd start any time soon.... He wondered why no one came looking for them...

Them, right, where’s…

He turned his head to his left and found out right away exactly where Victor was. Several yards away, face down in the sand and looking ever so still, Yuuri felt the terror build up inside of him and tried not to scream. (Well, his mouth opened and tried to form a scream, but nothing came out.) “V-Victor?” He rasped, crawling towards him. He was met with silence. “Victor, please.” He squeezed his arm, surprised at how pale his husband was.  _This has to be a dream... it happened so fast..._

Struggling, Yuuri turned Victor over and was met with closed eyes and blue lips. He rested his head over Victor’s heart, but he wasn’t sure if he could hear anything over his own heartbeat ringing in his ears. Nearly defeated, Yuuri sat up and shook his head at his husband. "Don't do this, please," He laughed bitterly, shaking Victor's shoulder. "Come on, you know I can't do this without you... how are we going to settle together if you aren't going to get up?" He thought of the night of their wedding, when Victor carried him up the steps to their bedroom and was so gentle and loving, how he tried to sing a song that Yuuri didn't recognize to calm him down. How impossibly loved he felt in that moment. How, even though this year has been filled with so much danger, he had never felt more safe than he was by Victor's side, never more loved, never... Yuuri didn't realize how long he was laying there at Victor's side, but they were now submerged in darkness. He felt so alone now, so vulnerable...... " _Tis the last rose of summer, left blooming alone... all her lovely companions are faded and gone....._ " He knew if he tried singing this at the campfire, surely the other people would cringe at the croaking of his voice as he tried to sing to his husband amidst his tears. But Victor liked it when he sang to him. "Remember this song, Victor? The woman at the theatre sang it when we were in St. Louis, and you liked it so much we bought the sheet music for it. You sang it to me, and you wanted me to sing it to _you_ before and I was too shy... I'm sorry I didn't sing to you." He ran his fingers through Victor's damp hair and smoothed the sand from his face. "Did you know that I love you?" His eyes stung and he looked up at the first stars of the night to clear the tears. "I always ha-have.. I think you are perfect for me... because you... you're more than a husband, Victor. You're my best friend too, and you can understand me in a way that no one else has ever even tried to." He wiped his eyes with his sleeve and sniffled. "I never told you how much I love you, did I? Because I'm shy.. I hope you know it and didn't think differently of me." His throat constricted when he dared to look at Victor's unresponsive face again. "D-Don't leave me, god damn it!" He wept, throwing his arms around Victor and began sobbing into his chest. "I need you, I need you... don't leave me, stay close to me,  _please_!!!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Victor opened his eyes, startled by the sound of Yuuri practically screaming at him. When he realized where he was, he wrapped an arm around Yuuri's back and started to kiss his face. "It's alright, darling... I'm right here..."

But Yuuri didn't let go, not even slightly. 

***

“I think it’s ridiculous that we haven’t gone looking for them yet.” Takeshi Nishigori said after watching Yuri Plisetsky bawl his eyes out for one moment too long. “Not one decent man thought to himself, perhaps we should form a search party? Everyone was okay with just leaving them?” He’s angered by the silence around him. “This child’s _parents_ are out there and he has no one else. Where’s your humanity?”  
  
“Dead out there, you mean.” Miles chimed from his wagon. He had a map in his hands. “First of all, a third of our party is still on the other side of the river, so there’s that. Perhaps _they_ are looking for your friends. But it’s not like we have any use in searching now. We’re doing all we can for those who are actually alive, but damn, it must’ve been deeper than eight feet, cause that wagon didn’t even rise to the surface ‘far as I saw. At least we got their oxen. Should be useful for us.”

“How can you say something so inconsiderate? Goddamn…” His wife murmured, debating covering little Yuri's ears. 

“Inconsiderate? I’m making the best of a shitty situation. It sucks that this kid lost his parents, but if any one of us willingly jumped into that rough water it woulda been suicide. Their sacrifice showed us that floating across wasn’t the best method. It happens pretty much every year.”

“Then maybe you’re just a shitty leader.” Another individual spoke up. “If you knew this was going to happen then maybe on one of those years you should’ve found an alternate method to cross. What a dick.”

“As if any of you know anything about being out here!” Miles suddenly shouted. “If you did, you wouldn’t have to have hired me! You want to be a pussy and go back to Missouri? Good luck finding the way.”

“Victor Nikiforov was a better leader than you.” Someone mumbled, and Miles. Flipped. Shit. On. Everyone. “Victor Nikiforov is _dead_! If he was such a good leader who makes wise decisions, then why is he at the bottom of a river right now, huh?! Keep your damn mouths shut, all of you!”

.

“If I had died, and when I die, how long would you miss me for?” Victor asked randomly late into the night, after Yuuri got out all his energy. 

Yuuri whined, mumbling his response into Victor’s chest. 

“What was that?”

“I said I’ll miss you forever, so don’t ask again.” 

“Okay, but how intense would this “missing” me be? Just curious.” 

“Victor…” Yuuri sighed. “It’d be too intense to go on. I’ll miss you forever and ever… like… I don’t know, like the stars miss the sun in the morning sky.” 

“That was poetic.”  
  
“Ah, wasn’t it? Sorry… I was looking at the stars and it just made sense.” 

“I like it, anyway, it was quite romantic, too.” 

“Indeed.” Yuuri resumed his dozing against his darling husband’s chest and tries not to think of the inevitable; one day, Victor will die. Today was a close call, but there will be a time when there won’t be a second chance. He will actually die and Yuuri will never see him again… 

“Yuuri, you’re trembling….”

“I love you. I don’t want to ever lose you again!” Yuuri whispered. “It scares me, thinking about today, how I felt your hand underwater, but it just went limp, and… and that might have been the end for us!” He shivered underneath the thin saddle pad. “And poor Yura would become an orphan again, we would never see him again! And what if we are lost forever right now? It makes me so scared thinking about it, who’s watching him, is he safe, are _we_ safe??” 

“We’re alive, first of all, so let’s be thankful for that. Secondly, I have hopes that the Nishigori family are watching him. They seemed quite dependable.”

***

“Fuck it, I’m going out there.” Takeshi had paced around his wagon for almost an hour before he finally couldn’t take it anymore. It was almost the ten o’clock curfew, but he didn’t care. 

“Where are you going to look?”

“On the river bed, for starters. Is anyone else willing to go?” 

“I’ll go.” Dee stood up right away, ignoring the critical looks of everyone else. “Yuuri is my friend and I know he’d be the first to go out and look for me.” 

“Are you sure?” Yuuko frowned. “It can’t be good for you to go out in your condition.”  
  
“My condition? I’m fine.”

In the end, Dee and Takeshi manage to get six others to assist them. Four head out on horses. Two waded waist deep in the water, shining their lanterns to see if they had washed up. 

Dee and Takeshi checked the banks. There, they found a lot of the wagon’s contents, and so the two of them set to recovering what they could.

Carefully, Dee lifted what he recognized as the journal Yuuri was often seen writing in. “Do you think they’re both dead?”  
  
“I don’t know, I wasn’t looking when it happened.”

“Mr. Nishigori,” Dee sucked in a ragged breath. “I know what happened. I really think they’re dead.” 

“What? Why?”

“I… well… the rope looked loose from around the tree… so I thought I should tighten it, but when I moved to fix it, I heard a snap! And turning around, the only person there was Miles, and he didn’t even flinch when the wagon overturned. He didn’t tell anyone else what happened. And when I checked the rope earlier, it really looked like it had been cut by Miles’ machete..” 

“What are you saying, Dee…”  
  
“I know Miles did it. A- a strange man came up to us at the trader’s post and asked Miles to take care of something for him, he paid him… I’m sorry, I wasn’t sure what he meant until now!”

“Dee! Why didn’t you warn them?!”  
  
“I don’t know! I was afraid of Miles finding out I overheard him!” Dee hugged his stomach protectively. “Miles… he isn’t who you think he is. I won’t say anything more.”  
  
“I think you’d better.” Takeshi stood in front of him with his arms crossed. “Or I will tell everyone.”

“Please, don’t!”  
  
“You’re willing to put everyone’s lives in danger, Dee, or else you’d tell me.”

“Fine, fine!” Dee whined. “Miles is a _con artist_. He wanted to earn some money and needed to get west to escape the law. I was his boyfriend, but we are not married. I'm eight months pregnant. And I just turned eighteen last month. My mom and dad don't know I'm out here. Jesse, my half brother, has some knowledge of the situation. He's just trying to get to Nebraska to meet with his fiancé, Michael Altin."

"So you willingly put everyone in danger. You, Jesse, and Miles especially."

"I'm pregnant with his child, I- my parents would  _kill him_ if they knew!" Dee whined. "Please, don't tell anyone, Mr. Nishigori. Miles will get us to Oregon. He has a map and a book to guide us."  
  
"That isn't fucking enough! I have to warn the others across the river to turn back before it's too late." He left Dee standing by the river to gather up the rest of the travelers.

***

"Do you know exactly when I started loving you?" Victor whispered in his ear, arms on either side of Yuuri's head. "It had to be that first night when you kissed me, for I've been a lost cause ever since."

"I didn't mean to kiss you there." Yuuri says as he pants softly, breath warm against Victor's skin. "I meant to kiss your cheek and then you turned your head. I was so embarrassed." 

Victor laughs softly midway through peppering kisses down Yuuri's neck. "I figured as much with the doe eyes you gave me afterwards. And the second time we kissed, the day after the wedding, it was the same way. I think both of us were going for the cheek that time."

"We didn't know what to do with each other..." Yuuri agreed, hissing when Victor hit a particular sensitive part inside of him. "It was ridiculously sweet. I don't think I'd ever had an actual crush on someone I was already committed to before, which was what made it so funny. God was I smitten." Yuuri nearly cringed thinking back to when he and Victor tried to kiss passionately and how he failed because of how shy he was around him. "And oh my god, remember when you laughed til you cried because you thought my lingerie was your underwear in the dark and wore it to work? You tried to look so tough that evening when you stood by our bed, not knowing you were wearing pink frilly lingerie..."

"Hey, you said I looked sexy in it."

"You always look that way, though." Yuuri tipped his head back and muffled a moan in Victor's shoulder. "It's a shame it's at the bottom of the river, now. And my journal..."

"I'm sorry. I should have been more careful and knew better than to trust Miles." 

***

Honestly, Yuuri felt incredibly dirty that night and left his sated husband on the sand to sit by the water to clean himself.  _When that angry man called me a filthy slut four years ago, I was insulted. Now that seems like an accurate statement. We should be recovering or building a fire but instead we had sex in the sand because that's what normal people do in dire situations, obviously._

"Hey, Yuuri, I think we should gather some wood to start a fire. It is cold out here and we don't have anything dry to wear."

"Oh, so now you decide on survival?" Yuuri giggled. "Okay, hurry back, though. I get afraid when I'm alone."

.

Yuuri didn't understand how Victor could build a fire with no supplies, but he did, because he was Victor Nikiforov and could do things normal men could not. Soon, Yuuri was cuddled against his husband in dry clothes and felt safe enough to sleep. But Victor, on the other hand, seemed troubled. It didn't take long for whatever bothered him to get the better of him, and he stood to investigate. "I think there's someone watching us."

"What—" Yuuri was cut off by a whinny, and he smiled faintly. "I was hoping they survived."  
  
Victor stepped into the thicket and came back pulling the reins of one of their horses. " _Petunia_ , you're soaking wet. Where have you been, huh?" Victor led her over by the fire and tied her to a tree. "This will help us a lot, so we can get around faster." 

"Do you think the rest of them are dead?" Yuuri said, stroking the horse's neck. "What will we do? Everything's gone. Do we have to turn back?"

"I don't know..."

***

"Any luck?" The leader smiles the moment he sees Takeshi the following morning, but he knew it was not genuine. Miles Finn had been all too upbeat (when not being challenged about his leadership, of course) since the wagon tipping, and Takeshi Nishigori found it very suspicious.

"Yes, in fact, a bunch of us are about to continue the search again."

"Oh that won't do." Miles said before Takeshi's sentence was even finished. "We've got to solve the problem by the river, there, and I'm gonna need all hands on deck. Once the rest of 'em have crossed we're on our way."

"I'm sure we won't be missed, it doesn't take fifty people to find a way across the river. Dee agrees with me, too, you know." 

"I'm not certain he does, being that I haven't seen him since last night."  
  
"What—"  
  
"Alright, I'm off to check on the rest of the bunch. Holler if you need me."

.

Victor woke up to a face full of sand. Yeah, his skin felt itchy now and he felt freezing as he had nothing to cover himself with and their fire had long since distinguished. Yuuri shivered, too, under his thin layers, and Victor decided to remove his shirt to offer Yuuri a bit of warmth. He was going to start a fire to warm up with, but all the logs were damp and he had no luck. Well, he couldn't stand to sit there shivering and knew that it might be best to leave now. So he gently woke Yuuri and helped him onto the front of their horse. Yuuri seemed uncomfortable when straddling the horse and quickly sat in a side-saddle position instead. "I lost my glasses..." Yuuri said in dismay, though his eyes weren't even open yet when Victor led the horse forward. "Now I'll never see well again."

"I'll figure out something for you. We can have some ordered from your father."

"That'll take a very long time." 

"I'm going to do the best I can, babe." 

Yuuri shut up after that. 

Not a half mile from their spot at the river bank, they started to smell cooking fires, pancakes... Yuuri hadn't eaten since the light lunch the day before and his stomach ached for something to eat, though he wouldn't tell Victor that as he didn't want him to feel bad.

Another quarter mile and they found about a third of their wagon party. It looked like no one had crossed the river after their wagon tipped, but there was a large raft of sorts being assembled by the water. No sooner had they made their appearance near the closest of the wagons, everyone awake looked like they'd seen a ghost. Yuuri was certain he heard someone whisper something about the rope being cut. 

.

The moment that Yuuri set foot on the opposite side of the river, he was calling for Yura. The Nishigori's and Yuri alike all shared the reactions of the travelers on the opposite side of the river, but Yura was the only one that started crying. He ran into Yuuri's arms and wept so very bitterly... like he was truly heartbroken. Yuuri wished in that moment that they never started the journey in the first place, for the pain it had caused their poor son was unbearable. When Yura let go of Yuuri, he went straight for Victor and seemed almost more upset than he had been with Yuuri. He smiled at the sight and decided not to say anything about it. He was just glad that the two of them were still getting along.

"I knew you two were still kicking. What happened?" Takeshi clasped Yuuri's shoulder. "We didn't see either of you come up."

"We woke up on the opposite side of the river, about a mile down. All our stuff's gone, right?"

"A majority of it, unfortunately. But Dee and I found some supplies last night that washed up. I have it over by my wagon."

Yuuri followed Takeshi over to the wagon in question and both are surprised to find hardly anything there. Last night there were several crates, a satchel with a journal and quite a bit of money, food... now, there was a bit of food, the journal (no satchel), Yuuri's glasses that had been in the satchel as well, and a single coin. "I-It was just here a moment ago! I literally just got up!" 

 Yuuri crouched to pick up his glasses and slid them on. Blinking, he stared down at the little in front of them. "Why would someone take our waterlogged stuff?"

"I don't know, but we should report it to Miles." 

Needless to say, Miles was gone. His wagon was still there, but anything of monetary value had been cleared out and only one horse was missing. 

***

"I'm not sure I have anything that will fit you, but my husband has a spare set of clothing if you'd—"

"Oh, I'm fine for now, thank you. I'm sure we'll find plenty more in Fort Kearney." Yuuri ate his second breakfast of the day while the travelers had their breakdowns. Yuuko was kind enough to go out of her way to cook him something after she had already put her cookware away.

Everyone was talking about their leader's disappearance and Yuuri had to hope for the best. Perhaps Miles was just... getting some air? No, no, his wagon was cleared out. Dee was nowhere to be found, either, which led them to be even more suspicious, but as Miles had said, no one had seen Dee since the night before. 

“I’m not going back to Ohio, I sold everything to get here.”

“Well my fiance is waiting for me and I have no intention of making them wait!”  
  
“And I’d rather not have thrown all my money down the drain!”

“But we don’t know how to get there…” 

“Are you worried?” Yuuri asked Yuuko when she joined him by her fire. It's a stupid question, he thought, because she clearly was worried judging by her expression and the nervous tendency she had of clasping her hands together. 

“Yes, but not too worried. There’s still someone here who knows the way.”

“Who?” Yuuri didn't want to sound rude, but... there was a guy two days ago who called an oxen a cow and demanded that someone teach him to milk it. They weren't with the brightest or cleverest of bunches, Yuuri figured that most were people from urban areas looking for a new life in the west that knew nothing of what they were getting themselves into.  

She nudged him. “Your husband, of course. He told us he’s been up and down this trail plenty of times, he’s smart and knows the right methods to take. I think everyone here trusts him and would probably pay him to take us at least most of the way.”  
  
Yuuri couldn’t even force himself to smile. “B-But… him and I have to start building our new house, certainly there will be no time for tha—”

“Alright, everyone, listen up.” The second Yuuri saw Victor standing in front of the travelers, he had to use essentially all his self control to prevent himself from shouting profanities in Victor’s direction. _Last night was nothing to you, huh_ ? _Already back to your old self._ “We need to look for Dee and see what supplies we can find on the river bank. I’d like for us to be out of here by nine o’clock.” Someone asked if he was going to be their leader from now on, and he was quick to clarify. “Right now, let’s focus on getting to Fort Kearney. Once we get there, we’ll figure things out.” 

.

“What the fuck was that?” Yuuri hissed the moment he caught Victor away from the group. He followed his husband down to the river with his fists clenched at his sides. “What’s going to happen when we get to Fort Kearney?! You’re going to leave me there and go with those people, and I won’t see you until next year!”

“Hey, that’s not true. I would never do that.” Victor’s fingers brushed against Yuuri’s, but he swatted him away. “What? You don’t believe me?” 

“How _can_ I believe you?”

“Yuuri. We can’t just leave these people here and we can’t go back when we have no supplies to ourselves. They’ve been good to us, and if I don’t lead them, who will?”

They walked for a long time, gathering a few remnants of their belongings and locating a second horse. The rest seemed to be gone, making them lose about three hundred dollars. Shortly before they turned back, Yuuri’s mood lifted a bit when he found what seemed to be some of their luggage, including two of Yuuri’s favorite outfits among other essentials. "Well, I still think you're going to leave me." Yuuri said, holding up a shirt to himself. "I'm going to change real quick, please watch to make sure that no one is around."

"Mhm."

Yuuri walked into the woods a bit away from the river and started to undress. It hurt to bend or lift his legs high enough to put on his trousers, but he tried to ignore the pain. "I guess I'm more out of shape than I thought." He said to no one in particular. He could've sworn he heard a response. "Victor, stop messing around."

"What? I didn't say anything."

"Sure." Yuuri rolled his eyes. He slipped his shirt over his head and heard the noise once more. "Victor, I said stop."

"I didn't say anythiiiing..." Victor suddenly approached him and slipped his hands around Yuuri's waist. "What's all this whining about, huh?"

"You were making a weird noise."

"I was not." Victor leaned in and kissed him softly, lingering there for a moment. "I think you're just nervous. No one's out here, Yuuri. I've been looking out for you." 

Yuuri rested his face against Victor's shoulder. "I'm not crazy, though. If we wait here long enough you will hear it."

"Very well." Victor kissed down his neck. "I'm fine with hiding out here with you all day, too, if that's what—"  
  
" _H-Help..._ "  
  
"That. That's the sound!"

Victor took his hand and the two of them started to walk towards the location of the sound. "Hello?"

Yuuri was the first to see what made the sound. "Oh my god, Victor..."

Years down the line when Yuuri's stomach is round and he anticipates a child, he will think back to the sight in the forest of Derrick Parker and grow squeamish. Of how the young man had his stomach slashed and lie there dying with not a person in the world to care for him.

Someday, Takeshi Nishigori will tell him the truth about Dee, how young he was and that his parents didn't know where he was. But for that day, all Yuuri saw was an image of himself, and he wanted to run away.  
 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made an important decision that the bastard that Victor kills' death scene will not be in the main fic. It's really dark in both what he says and what Victor does, and being that this fic is so angst filled already, I have decided that it might be best to be separate from the main fic. This murder scene will be included in Victor's backstory, which I am still working on and the appropriate tags will be used to warn readers. Anyway...
> 
> Long chapter, right? Holy cow. Um, so I know I have been told the timeline gets a little confusing so I wanted to summarize it real quick here.
> 
> 1854— Yuuri lost his son.  
> 1855— Yuuri marries Victor and also has all the interactions with the Giacometti's, Lara's daughters die and her and Chris split.  
> 1856— Yuuri's ex finds Yuuri during this time, but does not do anything. At the end of the year, they go to St. Louis.  
> 1857— Train derailment, tornado, and trail west.  
> 1858— It's a secret but not relevant to the over all plot right now.  
> 1859— Shh...  
> 1860— The entirety of the content found at the beginning of the chapters, from the baby's birth, Victor crossing paths with Yuuri's ex, a spoiler trip that I cannot spoil yet, and so on.  
> 1863— Epilogue
> 
> Hopefully none of you hate Victor after what he said in the early part of the chapter. He's really hurt and traumatized and pls don't hate him, things will get better. I promise.
> 
> Next time: welp, onto the west I guess? in the present, Yuuri uncovers a secret that changes everything, and Victor gets counsel.


	9. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri comes to a decision in 1857. He's tired of being... himself. He wants to become stronger. He CAN become stronger.
> 
> And in the present.... yikes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (If you go to my next work in the Frontier AU (WHICH I SUGGEST BEFORE READING THIS CHAPTER, unless you don't want to know or aren't comfortable with sensitive content) you will see how Victor killed Yuuri's ex. Or... did he?)
> 
> 9/1/18— I don't think I'm updating this weekend. Sorry guys. :(  
> Just feeling really uninspired and unwell. I'll be back asap

 

October, 1860

Dover, Delaware

"What do you think of him, anyway?" Minako happened to visit the afternoon that Yuuri isn't home, but to her delight, he left behind his daughter, and so she gets to spend a bit of time with her, as protective as her grandmother is. "Victor, I mean. I know what you think of your own son."

"Victor is... how should I put this?" Hiroko glances towards the dining room, where her husband is showing Yura how to make a particular dish that had always been Yuuri's favorite growing up. "I think he's kind, but I— ah..." She hopes Yura cannot hear what she's about to say. "I don't think he likes Yuuri. I really don't. The way Mari described their relationship when she visited made it seem like they could hardly stay away from each other, and  _now_ , I see something so very different. There is definitely some discontent. I don't want to get involved, but I do worry for my son."

"Does he know about, you know..."

About Yuuri's humiliatingly terrible record in this town? Who  _doesn't_? "I think not... based on what Mari told me from her visit, again, and Yuuri told her at that time that Victor didn't know anything, really."

"Maybe he's starting to figure out the truth, then. I imagine that discovering that your other half held so many secrets might be upsetting."

Both women mull on the subject, and the house is peaceful. That is, until they hear some sort of commotion approaching the front door. It bangs open. " _Don't_ try to talk to me!" Yuuri snaps, storming towards the staircase, Victor in tow. "You  _always_ do this, keeping your secrets even when I outright  _ask_ as if there isn't a better time to just—"  
  
"SHUT UP!" 

Minako sips her tea and watches the pair walk upstairs. Hiroko wishes she could become invisible. 

Victor does knock, asking very politely amid his strained voice, to be let into Yuuri's room. But when Yuuri refuses, he bursts in anyway, and their arguing continues, literally in front of everyone (who make excuses to come upstairs for random things and linger here and there).

“I told you to stay away from me!” Yuuri cries the moment Victor walks in, fervently stuffing whatever clothing he could into his duffel. When Victor steps forward, he adds, “Come any closer and I’ll have my father remove you from this house!”

“And I can remove what’s rightfully mine, too, never mind what your father says.” Victor growls. “You aren’t going anywhere without me.”

“As if I’d want to be anywhere near you right now!” Yuuri closes his bag and stalks towards the door, grunting when Victor tries to take the bag from him. The two of them pull at it like toddlers arguing over a piece of candy. “O-Or maybe ever! You don’t get to say such terrible things and expect me to want you near me ever again!”

“You’re running because it’s the truth, isn’t it?!” Victor’s grip on the strap of the bag was so firm, Yuuri thinks it might tear. “Isn’t it?!”

“What are you _talking_ about?!”  
  
“The pictures, damn it! Like _this one_ !” And he rips _that_ picture, the one that was taken in Independence, and shoves it into Yuuri’s free hand. “You sent this to him, didn’t you?! How could you do such a thing to me??”

Yuuri’s flabbergasted (and, horrified to see his exposed genitals like this) “ _WHAT_ ??!! I didn’t send this to _him_ !! I took this picture for _you_!!!”

Victor is… shocked. Eyes wide, mouth gaping and he stammers to find his words for a good ten seconds. “B-But _he_ had—”  
  
“Well I don’t know _how_ , being that it was with my luggage when the train derailed! I can’t _believe_ you would think that I’d send him a picture of my _dick_ and exposed, gaping—”

The obscene word is enough to make even Victor cringe, knowing Yuuri’s parents can hear what’s going on.

“Now get out! And… and if you want answers, go find them yourself! You like embarrassing me anyway…”

“Yuuri, had I only known, I—”

“You want to know what other picture I had for you?” Yuuri sifted through his duffel, clothes falling out here and there, until he retrieved a folded photograph. “Take _this_ with you, you asshole, and don’t you dare come near me again!”  
  
“Don’t you think you’re being a _bit_ over—” Victor let Yuuri push him towards the door, but he knew Yuuri wasn’t completely serious in his threat. “No, _out_ !”  
  
“Very well, I’ll be back this evening to help you with your nightly routine, then.”  
  
“No you won’t!!!”

The door slammed shut, and Victor looked down at the photo Yuuri had given him. “Well, now I bet you feel worse about not telling me about her. You could’ve sent this if you were too nervous to say anything. What were you  _thinking_ , Yuuri?"

The photo is of Yuuri, heavily pregnant with his daughter.

* * *

Then,

Across The West and Fort Kearney, Nebraska

1857-1858

***

_Mom,_

_I am not sure when this letter will be posted, as I am told the mail is not reliable at this fort, considering there are more people coming west than there are going east, but I will hope that you get this before the end of the year. Please send your response to this location, as I am sure I will not be going anywhere else in the foreseeable future._

_Much has changed over the past eight months and I am miserable. After the death of a new friend, a near drowning experience, and having to care for a very small infant until she was passed off to her uncle. The darling girl, so helpless and practically orphaned, was put in my care much as I protested it, and I kept my promise all the way to Fort Kearney in Nebraska. The baby’s mother (I will not disclose their name) was killed and didn’t even have time to name her before they died. So the uncle decided to take to naming her his own way. I am one for sentimental names and have already known that if I shall ever have a daughter myself her name will be Lara, due to my dear friend Lara Giacometti. But this man, (Jesse Parker) decided on naming his niece Minnie. Apparently, the mother already had names picked out, but it is far too late to ask._

_We debated on her last name. As her father’s family name, as much of a bastard as he is, was Finn, most thought that should have been her last name by default. I pushed for the mother’s maiden name to be used instead, and so Minnie Parker came to be._

_When we reached Fort Kearney on the first of May, Jesse Parker’s fiance met us with his son. To my surprise, Jesse Parker’s fiance is actually an acquaintance of mine. We met three years ago, when I first moved to Independence. Michael Altin lost his husband two winters ago to influenza and was left to support his then-four year old son alone. He sent out an ad for a husband, and him and Jesse are quite happy together now. I think his son, Otabek, is happiest of all to have a baby sister. Step cousin, technically, I think, but that doesn’t matter._

_But back to myself. I intended to settle right away in Fort Kearney (or nearby) and seeing that Michael and Otabek were there, I knew that things would be just fine._

_But we couldn’t find anyone to take these travelers west, and they were getting desperate. Combined, they gave Victor over fifteen hundred dollars to lead them into the Rocky Mountains. If he should pass the role to someone else, that individual would get half the money._

_We fought so terribly about where I should be; if I should come with him or stay at the fort. My, we’ve had our arguments, but I don’t think I personally have ever been this heated! In the end it was decided that I should join him as far west as Fort Laramie. As for our son, we knew we had to take him along— he’s been so traumatized since the drowning incident. I got to meet Victor’s brother and stayed with him for quite a few weeks while Victor was away. That was when things actually got bad for me, because… well this may take a while to explain, but…_

.

“You’ll be back when?” Yuuri kissed his husband a final time that morning in early July, after three days of grieving for his soon to be loneliness. He didn’t want Victor to go, obviously. He just hadn’t the strength left in him to protest it any longer. And besides, it wasn’t as if the situation he would be left in was going to be bad; he could tell Georgi and his family were fine people.

“I’m getting them to a fort in Idaho. Then, I will come back. September, October at the latest.”

“And if there’s a blizzard?”  
  
“If there’s a blizzard I will prioritize my safety and return to you as soon as I possibly can.”

Yuuri sighed sadly. “If you do end up taking them to Oregon, I may not see you until next spring, correct?”

“Ah… that would be right.”

And as this conversation always went, Yuuri teared up and buried his face in Victor’s shoulder. He knew there was no other way around it and crying was pointless. Victor simply must go. He still wished Victor’s brother would take his place and lead these people west, but he was always sickly and couldn’t handle those conditions. Victor was turning thirty in a few months. How much longer could _he_ handle it?

“Be strong for me, will you? I don’t want to leave either.” Victor drew back, studying Yuuri’s face like he might forget it once he left. “But I just remind myself of what I’m doing this for, who I get to come back to.” He leaned in close to whisper, “I- I never had something like that before I met you, you know?”

“Neither did I…” Yuuri whispered to him, and, fearing that Victor wouldn’t believe him, added, “because, um… nobody ever treated me like I was something they wanted to keep? Like… like I was replaceable, I guess.”

“I can’t imagine why any man would think that, because I can’t even go a half hour without thinking about you, how much I want to be with you, in your arms, and—”

“Victor, please,” Yuuri pressed a finger to his lips. “Your group will grow impatient… just go, okay? And… and please write to me.”

“Every day.” Victor squeezed both of his hands, giving him a look somewhere between tenderness and guilt, if even possible…

“The postman will hate you.”  
  
“So be it, darling.”

Yuuri smiled, heart tightening when Victor let go of his hands. He mounted his horse and grabbed the reins. “I love you, Victor. Please stay safe.”

“Only because you asked,” Victor winked, and suddenly he was gone, and he forgot to say I love you, too.

***

The first few days were fine. Georgi gave Yuuri his space, his wife and sons were all kind and Yura seemed to get along with the boys around his age. Yuuri spent his time helping wherever needed; be it running errands, helping in the store, stocking, whatever was asked he’d do.

It kept him busy, it kept his mind off Victor (okay, not really, but to some extent) and being busy meant not worrying or getting upset or thinking about Dee or Minnie—

He was in Wyoming. Dee never made it to see this place. No one will ever know exactly what happened, who killed him and where they are. They got away with murder.

Which is why, when he had no distractions and no one to talk to, he became quite distraught.

He woke early in the morning after a harrowing nightmare, to an empty bed and had to stare up at the ceiling for close to an hour to keep himself calm, to prevent an embarrassment or to scare Georgi’s children with one of his little nervous fits.

Yuuri dressed quickly and went outside into the cool mountain air. Victor’s brother was about to leave for his store, so Yuuri was quick to catch up with him and save himself the long walk.

_He’s coming back._

.

Yuuri thought back to when baby Minnie was born by the water, how they really had no choice but to deliver her as Dee died within minutes. Yuuri tried to talk to him, but nothing Dee said made any sense. Victor said he was in shock.

It was a horrific moment. There was nothing beautiful about it.

Victor had to cut Dee open deeper than he already was to retrieve the baby, because that’s what Dee would’ve wanted. And there was so much blood, tears, and—

But as for Yuuri, he could only think of how there was no way to save his own baby in the past. He was too small. But if he could choose to die like Dee just so his son could live, he knows he would do it.

The baby was smaller than an average newborn, but already had a little bit of hair and weighed around five pounds. Victor wrapped her in a shirt and didn’t even try to save Dee. He just let him die. At that moment, Yuuri was angry with him. He didn’t understand why Victor didn’t try harder.

But when he really took a good look at Dee’s body later on, he understood.

The two of them returned to camp, solemn, bloody, and with a crying infant, to break the news.

Jesse Parker was the most devastated out of anyone and spent the rest of that morning by the river with his brother. He vowed that if he ever saw Miles again, he’d be dead. I don’t think there was anyone there that would try to stop him.

They buried Dee on the side of the trail, like so many other graves left behind by travelers of the past…

And then they moved on, just like everyone else did.

The baby was first put in the care of Yuuko Nishigori, but Yuuri found himself spending most of the time with her because Jesse asked him to. He knew how much his brother liked and trusted Yuuri and couldn’t think of anyone else to entrust with his niece.

He kept her for about another week, until they came to Fort Kearney. Had Miles not disappeared, had Dee still been alive, Yuuri might’ve been happy to arrive. But now that he knew he was obligated to go further on this godforsaken journey, he felt nothing.

However, Jesse Parker was certainly happy to meet his fiance. Yuuri was shocked to find out that Michael Altin, his acquaintance from two years previously, was Jesse’s fiance. His husband died and he was left with nothing. He didn’t look sad in the slightest about it, but Yuuri just assumed he had to be strong for his son.

He was just as happy to see Yuuri, and to everyone’s relief, was fine with raising Jesse’s niece as well.

They married on the first Sunday of May, and Victor led everyone back onto the trail the next morning.

They arrived in Fort Laramie in late June. The month of May was hell for Yuuri; so many river crossings, so many hot days, so many illnesses. But he held on and kept his thoughts to himself. He knew if he lost hope, he would never make it to his destination.

He did fall ill a few days before reaching Fort Laramie and spent all his time in the wagon. Fortunately, it wasn’t as dry once they were in the mountains and thanks to plenty of fluids and rest, he was able to overcome it. Still, by the time he was introduced to Victor’s brother, he was still a bit weak, which is most of what influenced Victor into making a decision that infuriated Yuuri…

Yuuri watched with clenched fists as the last of the wagon train disappeared into the horizon, then went inside his brother-in-law’s house.

There were only two bedrooms. (The second did not count, it was a loft), where Yuuri was forced to sleep with Victor’s five nephews (the sixth was still a baby and stayed with his parents), as well as Yura, and he felt very uncomfortable. It was hot up there, and on top of how many children were crowded in, it just made it worse.

Yuuri sat upright by the only window and fanned himself, watching the children out of the corner of his eye to make sure they were actually going to sleep as told. They ranged in the ages of three to fourteen, and they all looked the same to Yuuri. None of them shared any similarities with Victor or his parents, mostly looking like their father. He wondered why that was…

He started to wonder about if he should ever have his own child with Victor and what they might look like. Perhaps they would have dark eyes like himself, light hair, maybe blue eyes and dark hair…? Perhaps the child would look nothing like Victor, or vice versa.

 _Why am I even thinking about this right now…_ Yuuri thought glumly. _I’m not sure I can even have a child at this point. Do I want a child? I don’t know._ He fell asleep sitting up…

.

This side of the Nikiforov family woke up incredibly early. Back in Independence, Yuuri might be able to get away with sleeping in until seven or eight, but even the youngest of the family was awake by five-thirty, and Yuuri was called down at six for breakfast.

He didn’t bother changing into his day clothes, his hair was a mess, and he had to squint to see in the early morning light. He felt bad for the Mrs. Nikiforov, who had to cook for so many people. Yuuri should’ve asked if he could help.

“Did you sleep well, Yuuri?” She asked in passing, already back to the fireplace to continue cooking while the rest of her family ate.

“Um, yes… thank you for asking.” Yuuri didn’t want to eat before she did, so he pushed his plate aside. “C-Can I help you with anything?”

“Oh, don’t worry about me. I’ll need plenty of help later, of course. It’s laundry day!”  
  
Yura and Yuuri exchanged looks.

***

“Yuuri, can you do me a huge favor?” Georgi asked that evening at supper. “If you don’t want to go, it’s fine, but I left paperwork and my reading glasses at the store.” Sending Georgi out into the rain was a terrible idea; he was such a sickly man as of late, and his wife assured Yuuri it was nothing contagious, which worried him.

“I’ll go.” Yuuri said, eager for an opportunity to get out of the house. It finally stopped raining after almost three days straight of it, and everyone was going stir crazy indoors. The amount of noise that those six boys made was enough to give Yuuri a permanent headache, but their mother seemed unfazed by it. Yuuri had enough trouble with one little boy always chattering in his ear, and he couldn’t imagine six…

He put on his cloak and was outside in less than a minute. He took Petunia from the stable, saddled her, and was soon on his way.

The cooled evening air felt so much better than the hot days on the dusty trail and he appreciated every moment of silence that he was given.

As he approached the fort— tall walls made of long slabs of wood surrounded it, making it look quite intimidating, but the soldiers were as friendly as can be and Yuuri felt no fear approaching the gates. They did close at night, but they were still open and Yuuri passed through with no scrutiny. One of the soldiers by the gate even tipped his hat at Yuuri. _One of the reasons I actually like the west,_ he thought, _people don’t know a thing about who I was and respect me for who I am now._

The trading post was a lot bigger than most, primarily because it shared a building with the general store of the fort, with just a wall and a door separating them. Anything that the general store did not have, the post had. Georgi mentioned something about giving the post to the army and letting them use it, as long as he got some of the profit from it. He told Yuuri that he was thirteen years older than Victor, old, tired, and ready to settle and simply stick to homesteading.

Yuuri unlocked the door to the post and hurried inside, struggling to see much of anything in the dark room. He felt blindly around the table until he felt glasses and whatever papers were beside them. He stuffed them into his bag and turned for the door.

“Excuse me."  
  
Yuuri practically jumped out of his skin at the sight of a figure in the doorway, but quickly composed himself enough to be professional. “Sorry! W-We’re closed now!” Yuuri gulped. “We will open tomorrow morning at eight.”  
  
“I just need something in exchange for a few dollars.” It was a woman— her pants signified that she was an alpha, and her attitude showed that she believed she was superior to him.

“I cannot help you.” Yuuri said firmly. “I don’t own this store, I don’t even run it, I was just getting something for the owner.”

“Look, I just need a spare axel and I’ll be on my way.”

“And I’m sure the owner will be more than happy to assist you in the morning.” Yuuri backed up into the counter. “Until then, please…”

The figure stepped forward. “Wait a minute. I know you. You were back in Missouri not too long ago, weren't you? Lone Jack?"

“I’m not sure you do know me, you must be mistaking me for someone else..” Yuuri dipped his head. “Please go. I don’t want any trouble.”

“Who’s starting trouble? I’m asking for some damn service.” She walked towards him in a confident stride and Yuuri was quick to scurry for the door. “All I need is a fucking axel! I’ll take it myself if I have to!”

“As if _anyone_ would serve _you_!” Yuuri shouted back at her. He dodged the tool she threw his way in anger, spun around once or twice and ended up tumbling down the front steps in his own clumsiness. 

 

Pain sliced through Yuuri and it took everything he had to try and back away from her again. “Why are you here? Looking for your wagon party?” He panted, wondering if there was anything in his satchel to help him. She wasn't really threatening him or anything, but she was aggressive and he was injured, so...

“No, I was coming here as an innocent damn person and you are being rude to me for no reason. I guess that’s to be expected of a cocky omega. But I gotta know, what are you doing out here all alone?” She stood just over Yuuri, arms crossed. "Don't you know how unsafe it is for omegas to be out alone, in a place like this, especially? Don't try telling me you're a soldier. Where is your husband?"

Yuuri gave her a cold look. “I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. Now,” yep, there’s definitely something wrong with his leg, “please leave. You’re lucky that I don’t get one of the sergeants at this very moment to deal with you.”

“Am I?” She chuckled, “You act so tough, little one. That is, until someone does something like…” She lifted Yuuri effortlessly, like he weighed nothing— and hoisted him over her shoulder, patting his bottom a little hard for good measure, and started walking towards the back of the post. "Want to know something, sweetheart? I  _am_ the sergeant."

“ _Put me down put me down put me down_!” Yuuri shrieked, slamming his fists on the woman's shoulder. She laughed and tossed him onto the ground. “See? You’re absolutely fucking weak. So watch your fucking tone with me.”

Yuuri sniffled, rubbing at his tear filled eyes.  
  
“Why are you even crying? I was just messing around. Someone had to put you in your place.” She palmed her pocket and ended up lighting a cigarette. “Do you want me to send someone to get you home safely?"

“No.”

She watched him, critically, as he tried to stand, crying out when putting pressure on his leg.

“Okay. You’ll do better if you learn to keep your mouth shut in an alpha’s presence, alright?”  
  
Yuuri nodded.

“That’s better. Now, about that axel. Can we go ahead and make that trade? There is a doctor nearby, he can probably fix up that leg, but there's nothing anyone can do to cure clumsiness."

Yuuri knew plenty of alpha women. They weren't as common, of course, and in the east they couldn't always exercise their rights freely. But in the west, they were most of the groundbreakers. Some ran forts as far west as Idaho, some were in the army, some were trail guides. Most never married. The young ones enjoyed picking on male omega children, as they were often held in higher regard and enjoyed teasing them because of it.

Of course, there were those that were quite friendly and always protective of him. In these recent years, Yuuri enjoyed the protection, but now? Now... it made him feel so shameful for needing it.

He wished he could just fend for himself and not need anyone at all, but he did, and he knew he was weak for it.

I mean, look at these women, once known as the weaker sex, out here in Wyoming and leading entire  _groups_ of men, hunting, exploring, and standing up and demanding what they wanted. And Yuuri broke his leg running away from an angry customer.

***

 

_July 23rd, 1857_

 

_I know now, more than ever, that I must become stronger. I can no longer let anyone walk all over me._

_Because I couldn’t defend myself last week, my leg wound up broken. According to the fort’s doctor, there are two bones in the lower leg, the tibia, which is the larger of the two, and the fibula. I was fortunate to only have broken the fibula… but still, I am instructed to stay off my feet as much as possible for at least the next month. I have a brace and crutches to use when absolutely necessary, but it is now impossible for me to sleep upstairs, so I now sleep on the sofa._

_Victor will not be happy to hear about this, and though I begged Georgi not to tell him, I am quite certain a letter was posted the very same day it occurred, though I do not expect to get a reply, and I most certainly know that he won’t return to me over this._ _But now I just look weaker than I ever have, and it has to stop. I want to become stronger. I_ can _become stronger._

.

  
  


**July 28th, 1857**

 

**_My dearest Yuuri,_ **

 

**_The moment I received a letter from my brother, my heart sunk and I feared the worst. While I am relieved that you are well, I’m very displeased that you were attacked. In the future, it might be best to refrain from going out alone, for your safety. I miss you more and more every day and I cannot wait to be with you again. Please do your best to keep off your leg and rest. We will be together again before you know it._ **

**_Ever yours,_ **

**_Victor_ **

 

_Victor,_

_I am more than capable of defending myself. Don’t worry about me. I will be fine, thank you._

_We miss you too. Please hurry up._

_P.s., Yura caught a rabbit yesterday. Since there is no camera here, he drew a picture of it and I have enclosed it along with his letter to you._

 

 

**Your brothr has a lot of kids all boys and they went hunting. So I went to but I am the only one who cot any thing, a rabbit!!!!! It was big and brown with long poy-piy-p o i n t y eers. It was fun.**

**Yuuri brok his leg. I am taking care of him.**

**Bye.**

**YURI PLISETSKY**

 

***

 

Early September meant the near recovery of Yuuri’s leg and doing everything he could to help with the harvest. Since he was still supposed to rest, he had to volunteer to stay inside with Georgi’s youngest two, who were too young to help with anything outdoors.

He found himself counting down the days until Victor came back, which, honestly meant nothing as he had no idea when he would return. It could be this month, next month, or next year.

Thankfully, in mid September, he received a letter that Victor would be back within two weeks. He must’ve not had to take them all the way to Oregon after all. The following letter detailed that they had met up with another wagon train and Victor left them with that party, which was quite small and grateful for extra people.

Yuuri was back on his feet at that point and spent all his time gaining his strength back. He started with walking the three miles to the fort and back, then running, and then taking a longer route through the forest. By the end of September, he felt his leg was back to its normal self.

Yuuri heard hoofbeats approach the home at around nine-thirty on the night of September 29th. Though he was in nothing more than a thin nightgown, he burst through the front door and nearly toppled Victor over no sooner than he had dismounted from his horse.

.

 

“How was it?”

Yuuri had to help Georgi’s poor wife the following morning with breakfast as there were just too many people for her to cook alone for now, but he still made sure to brush against Victor as often as possible. He missed him too much.

“Adventurous.” Victor responded, meeting Yuuri’s eyes for just a brief moment. “I mean, I won’t be doing it again, but… it was fun. They were good people, they learned fast.”

“And your journey isn’t over yet.” Georgi added. “Are you really going to go back to Kearney _now_? You wouldn’t get there ‘til the dead of winter.”

“I know, that’s why I’m debating. Of course, I wouldn’t want to impose on you two any longer, you have enough people living here. Perhaps we will stay in the post.”

“In the post? Why, there isn’t even a fireplace. That’s just nonsense.” Mrs. Nikiforov said. “If we have room for Yuuri and little Yura, then we can squeeze one more person in for a few months.”

 _Yes, but I’m not sure I want to_ stay _for a few months_ , Yuuri thought, certain Victor thought the same thing.

“We will talk about it.” Victor said.

.

 

“So, tell me about how you broke your leg.” Victor said once the two of them had walked quite a distance from the house (it seemed like there were eyes and ears everywhere).

“There was just… some asshole throwing shit in a fit of rage. She didn’t mean to hit me.”

“Why did she throw anything in the first place?”  
  
“She came to the store after we closed and I wouldn’t help her with what she wanted. So she freaked out. And then she was teasing me, she picked me up, even. But I’m fine.”

“I’m sorry that I wasn’t here to h—”  
  
“No, Victor, I didn’t want help. A-And even if I did, I am tired of needing it.” Yuuri said firmly, determined to keep his voice unwavered. “I want to be able to take care of myself in a way I never have before. I-I even bought myself a sex toy while you were away and I use it often.”

Victor’s eyes widen, smirk creeping up his face. “Have you now?”

“Indeed I have, and it almost does the trick.”  
  
“How do you find the privacy for such a thing?”  
  
“The outhouse, or… sometimes I take your brother’s keys and go back to his store after it’s closed.” Yuuri beamed at him. “Maybe I could show you sometime… or I could try it on _you_ —”  
  
“You’ve become quite bold, haven’t you?” Victor asked, eyes shining with humor. “Is this the Yuuri that’s been inside you all along?”

“It’s just me trying to make my life better, I guess…” Yuuri stopped by a tree and faced him. “Ever since Dee died, I… I don’t know, I guess I’ve been thinking a lot about how we only have one life, and I don’t want mine to be miserable. I have to make the best of things, always. I’m trying to be more positive about things, too, even though sharing a room with so many little boys can be frustrating, it… it really isn’t that bad… I know it sounds ridiculous and you think I'm implying a toy changed my life. It wasn't that. I just decided to be more bold, is all. Try new things. And keeping positive is definitely new for me..."

“We just have to hold on a little while longer… we’ll have a bedroom of our own soon enough, a warm house…”  
  
“Yes, we will,” Yuuri said softly, watching the sun set through the trees. It was truly beautiful in Wyoming, and he often thought back to the months he spent there as pleasant ones. He believed if it were only a little more built up that he might like to live there permanently. 

But they left Georgi’s house the following day. Yuuri was too eager to get to Fort Kearney and Victor knew that if they were to leave, now was the only time. There was another fort not too far away if things went south, and since a majority of their supplies were already in Fort Kearney, they wouldn’t have to worry once they got there.

They traveled lightly and far quicker than they would have on the wagon train, but bad weather was inevitable. By the second week, they faced snow, the third, blockages, and the fifth, their first blizzard. Miraculously, they found a trading post to take shelter in during it, and the gentleman who ran it was kind enough to offer blankets and the little food he had.

They were back in Nebraska in early November; Yuuri grew used to being chilled to the bone. He was incredibly relieved to see the walls of Fort Kearney on November 29th,  just hours before another snowstorm.

***

“S-So…. What did you think of that?” Yuuri asked breathlessly, face just inches from Victor’s beneath him.

Victor formed a tiny smile, leaning up to kiss him. “It was new, it was… definitely a learning experience. I now know what I put you through and I have no idea how you can put up with it."

“But did you like it?” He trailed his hand down Victor’s front, slowly. “We don’t have to do it again if you don’t want.” 

“I mean, that was my first time having something… in me. It felt good, I won’t lie. But I think it’s something we should do from time to time.”

“Maybe next time I can…” Yuuri leaned in so that he was flesh with Victor and whispered in his ear.

Victor gasped. “Ha… yeah, maybe..”

Okay.

It’s not that he didn’t love Yuuri gaining confidence in himself and taking the lead, that was fine with him.

But, but! What happened just now and what Yuuri wanted to happen in the future! Is! Never! Done! No book, no gossip circle, no whore house has this sort of thing!

To be frank, male omegas do not penetrate their alphas. It just isn’t done. Mostly because— and not to insult his precious Yuuri— they do not have much pleasure to offer through their male sex. And! Most did not want to do what Yuuri was doing.

He had no idea what got into Yuuri. Never before had he been so direct, so bold… what could it possibly mean?

“Ah, I’m really tired… shall we sleep now?” Victor said after Yuuri looked at him _that_ way for a bit too long.

“Alright, but I still want—” Yuuri bit his bottom lip, “oh, I’ll just take care of it myself. You go to sleep.”

"You need sleep just as much as I do."

“I’m not even tired.” Yuuri protested. “You’re always tired. It’s boring when we only do one or two rounds.”

“You never complained about it before.” Victor turned onto his side.

“I never realized how much I needed it before.”

“Well, we’ve got a long day ahead of us tomorrow, Yuuri, and I really hope you get some sleep.” Victor blew out the candle beside them and closed his eyes.

Yuuri settled in and seemed to obey, for he was quiet and didn’t seem to move much. And just as Victor started to fall asleep, Yuuri muffled a moan into his pillow. “ _Yuuri_ …”

“I’m sorry, I—I’m so fucking _horny…_ ”

 _Seems like a midlife crisis if you ask me_ , Victor nearly mumbled under his breath. But, duty called, and he couldn’t possibly listen to Yuuri doing such an obscene thing next to him and fall asleep comfortably. “Alright, come here then…” Yuuri blushed, slipping into his arms quite eagerly.

***

Around Christmas, Fort Kearney received a major blizzard that made it just about impossible to even see out the windows. There was a very small fireplace in the stock room behind the post, and the three of them had to huddle close to keep warm. The windows were sealed and covered with thick material to keep out the cold, there were probably far too many candles lit, and the three of them had to wear several layers of clothing.

Still, everyone was cold. Yura suggested that the soldiers should cover the top of the fort with a giant blanket to keep out the snow.

If only that was possible.

On Christmas Eve, they had gotten about three and a half feet of snow and it was still coming down steadily. They were fortunate to have quite a bit of dried food inside and didn’t have to worry about going hungry, but going stir-crazy was always an option. By that afternoon, they had to let Yura sit out on the porch to appease his attitude.

Tonight, supper would be light; a simple rice dish and vegetables, but tomorrow, Yuuri hoped to cook the chicken that had been frozen since before the blizzard began so that Victor could have a decent birthday supper. Victor seemed to tease, saying that he didn’t know how old he was turning, but Yuuri forced him to admit he was turning thirty.

He seemed so much older than Yuuri, who had just turned twenty-three the month before and had seen far less of the world. But he supposed seven years wasn’t too big of a difference. For Yuuri’s birthday, he wasn’t given anything as they had nothing more than the clothes on their backs when they approached the fort. But that was enough of a gift for Yuuri.

“I have managed to get a few small gifts for him.” Victor said in a quiet tone in fear that the child in question might be listening in. “He will be quite disappointed if Father Christmas does not make an appearance.”

“You didn’t have to do that.” Yuuri chided, stirring the rice slowly and wondering where any extra money for a gift may have come from. “He’s a perfectly content child, he doesn’t need—”  
  
“Can you think of a Christmas in your entire childhood where you weren’t spoiled with presents?”

“W-Well, no… but that’s only because I had a godmother who…”  
  
“My point exactly.” Victor opened a strange item, wrapped in cloth. “He will have his Christmas gifts, and so will you.”

“ _Me_ ? Victor, that’s _not fair_ …”  
  
“How?”  
  
“Because I didn’t get you anything!”

“I’m well aware of that, Yuuri. It’s one of the woes of having a birthday on Christmas, you know, you either get double the gifts or nothing at all. But don’t fret. In Russia, we don’t celebrate Christmas in December, so—”  
  
“I am more concerned about your birthday than this holiday! What kind of husband would I be if I didn’t get you something?"

Victor hummed. “A practical one?”

Yuuri’s expression sombered.

“Oh, come on, love… I didn’t get you anything for your birthday, either…”

_I have to find him something…_

.

That night, while listening to his husband and son breathe softly in his sleep, Yuuri grew increasingly aggravated. _Stupid_ , he thought, _I could’ve arranged for something to give him. I have no money or talent so I cannot improvise. Giving him myself is a bit too predictable and we have a child in the house…_

Victor rolled onto his side, mumbling something about a frozen river in his sleep. He hugged Yuuri’s middle and pressed his face into the nape of his neck.

 _Victor likes surprising me. I_ have _to surprise him._

At around two thirty on Christmas morning, Yuuri slipped out of their makeshift bed and went out into the store. The idea that came into his mind while hunting around was lewd, risky, but brilliant. And besides, Victor loved chocolate.

.

 

In the morning, Yura was glad to find gifts for him set out in his stocking. Nothing big, as Victor had said, but satisfying enough for an almost seven year old: a harmonica, a spinning top, a wooden toy gun, and a small locomotive, also made of wood and painted. Victor said Father Christmas brought everything, but Yuuri believed he was planning ahead months ago and must have had it all along.

Victor gives Yuuri a lovely necklace with a silver pendant that has a small gem— his birthstone, apparently, inside. Yuuri promised to wear it always, though it made him feel insecure about his own gift to Victor. Even his gift to Yura; mittens with stripes like a zoo animal he liked— seemed inferior.

Someday, Yuuri imagined, he would have to completely blow Victor away with the most extravagant gift the west had ever seen. Something that would make Victor say, “Yuuri, this is too much.”

But that day wasn’t today.

Yuuri put his idea for his gift aside for now and went to start preparing breakfast.

***

Fort Kearney, Nebraska 

March, 1858 

On the first weekend in March, Victor left their makeshift home in the storage room of the trading post to try and see about purchasing materials for building a cabin. Since the weather finally rose above freezing, Yuuri took Yura out of the fort to a nearby stream so he could stretch his legs and play with his friend. They went to visit Michael and Otabek Altin at around lunch time, mostly because Yuuri wanted to check in on Dee’s baby, whom he hadn’t seen all winter.

She was still small for age but crawled easily now. With bright green eyes and red hair, she very much stuck out from the dark haired, dark eyed Altins.

Yuuri hated how much she looked like her father.

“How old are you? I’m seven.” Yuuri listened to his son talking. He admired how far Yura had come in the past three years with his speech and shyness. Of course, there were still many situations in which he was too uncomfortable to talk, but he was getting better. “I was six until Monday.”

“My birthday was in October, so I’ll be eight before you are.” Otabek responded. The two of them were seated by the window, trying to show each other up in the drawings they were doing.

“Yeah but I can read better than you.”

“How do you know?”  
  
“Cause I read a whole book yesterday with really hard words in it and I didn’t even ask for help once!”  
  
“Yura, do not be boastful,” Yuuri reprimanded, shifting his attention back to the delicious snickerdoodle cookies that Michael has set out for him. “Sorry about him. While I’m glad that he has become more social, he has a bit of an attitude on him now…”

“Oh, it’s fine.” Michael sits diagonal to him. “There aren’t many children out here, and Otabek appreciates the company. We both do.”

“So…” _Should I be talking about this_? “I’m sorry if I’m prying, but… how did you and Jesse meet?”

“We were childhood friends. When I wrote home to tell my family about my husband’s death, he wrote a letter to me, and, well…” Michael rested his chin in his hands. “Otabek’s father and I were arranged. He wasn’t a bad man and we were good friends, but it wasn’t love, you know? My heart was always set on someone else.”

“How did Otabek take it?”  
  
“Oh, he was devastated.” Michael responded. “He still misses his dad, but Jesse’s great with him.”

“I can tell. It’s wonderful that he still has you, and a supportive stepfather.”

“Oh, yes. And he loves Minnie. It feels like everything’s fallen into place for us. But what about you? How have you been since we last spoke?”

Yuuri wanted to give his friend a positive answer, to talk about going to St. Louis for a long, relaxing vacation, or perhaps something else exciting, but all he could think of was all the terrible things he had experienced over the past three years, and the hideous thought of, _perhaps coming here was a mistake_ … ran through his head. “We’ve just… um…” he felt heat rising to his face. “You know, living on as always. Lots of stuff going on…”

“Like what? I’d love to know. You look so different than you did when we met! It’s a good different!”

Yuuri shrugged, doing his best to stay calm despite how uncomfortable he felt. “Just… just a lot of moving around. Travel…”

“I’m sure you’re eager to just settle down, huh?”

“Yeah… but…”

“But…?”

“Which drawing do you think is better?” Yura stood at his side along with his friend, both putting their drawings of the barn side by side on the table. “I think it’s mine.”

“Mine is best. Jesse says I’m an artist.” Otabek countered.

Yura looked up at Yuuri with pleading eyes, the kind that would make a weaker person give in. But Yuuri wasn’t about to. “Actually… I think Miss Minnie’s drawing wins.” Yuuri motioned to the baby on Michael’s lap who had scribbled all over one of their spare papers. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

“N-No…” Both boys gaped at her, and Minnie was quite pleased with herself.

“I think it’s beautiful enough to go in an art gallery.”

He never got a chance to explain to Michael what he meant, for the subject was long forgotten soon enough.

.

 

“But mine was the best, right?” The moment that they were out of earshot of his friend’s house, Yura wanted to make sure that situation was clarified. He had to raise his voice to be heard over the clattering of their cart, which was... yes, Yuuri appreciated his confidence in speaking. But now when he was going to be boastful.

Yuuri rolled his eyes.

“You didn’t say no, so… it _was_ better…”  
  
“You’re not going to be a winner with that boastful attitude, young man. Now, stay quiet, I’ve got a headache.”  
  
“I can steer if you want.”

“Are you going to be responsible this time? No steering off the path?”

“No steering off the path.” Yura repeated, eager to take the reins from Yuuri. “Can we have that one dinner you made on my birthday again? It was good. Victor even got seconds and he _never_ —“

“Hey, hey,” Yuuri nudged him. “No, we’re not having that. You know that we can’t waste right now, and we’re out of meat. Soon, when the animals start coming out of hibernation…”

“I’m tired of rice and potatoes.”

“You’re lucky you have anything to eat at all. Be thankful for it.”

“What should we even be thankful for? We don’t have a house, we don’t even have beds.”

Yuuri sighed. Deep down, he feels the same way as his son, but he knew that saying he agreed wouldn’t be teaching him anything valuable. “I know that… right now, it might seem like we don’t have much, but… it won’t always be this way, and we have to learn to be thankful for what we have. One day, you might not ever think of being thankful, and take your luxuries for granted.”

“That’s just you telling me not to complain. But I think we should complain. Living in that store is _awful_. It’s cold, the floor is hard, there isn’t any furniture, it’s boring—“

“ _Okay_ , I get it!” Yuuri snapped, startling the boy. He took a deep breath. “We’re doing the best we can right now, Yuri Plisetsky. Please be patient.”

“Sorry.”

.

 

That evening after supper, when Yura has puffed into his harmonica and made far too much noise and Victor didn’t help him with the dishes, Yuuri got a bit overwhelmed and stepped out of the post. Sometimes, things got overwhelming living in such close quarters. Back home in Missouri, he could send Yura to his room and have the main floor to himself. He could hide away in the storage room with a good book. He could go hide at the Crispino's book shop, even. But here?

There was no escape. No other place to go to get some peace and quiet. The soldiers were awake at 5:30, loud as hell with their trumpets and guns and shouting. Yuuri wondered if he'd ever get a full night's sleep again. It would take a long time to build a cabin unless they had help, and there was hardly anyone near there, as far as Yuuri knew. Victor mentioned something about a small village some miles up the road, but he doubted there was anyone there willing to put up walls on a log cabin. Hell, he didn't even want to help. He didn't want to live in a cabin, period. 

He sat on the front porch and looked up at the sky, wondering if this was the sort of life he ever imagined for himself.

 _What was I thinking when I wrote him back? I had no idea what the consequences were, I just wanted to get away from the east. And now I’m here and… and I’m not happy… I’m not sure I ever will be._ _There are moments of happiness, but I always feel like I fall back into the same loop of emotions. It’s hard to be happy, living like this. I feel selfish, even thinking that, because I know how hard he tries for us…_

_I just want so much more…_

Yuuri listened to Victor’s footsteps approach the front door. He hesitated there for a moment, eventually coming outside. Yuuri wished he didn’t, but then again, he’s glad he did.

He stood just behind him. “Hey…”

“Hey.”

“So I got the deal signed for the land I wanted to rent. It’s a nice location… do you want to go see it tomorrow?”

Yuuri sniffed.

“We can make it as big as you want it to be. As grand, as ridiculously extravagant—“

“There’s no need for that. One room is fine.” Yuuri said glumly.  _I know we can't afford it. Don't put yourself in debt over me._

“Mm.” Victor moved to sit beside him, Yuuri facing the other way the moment he did. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“How many times have I heard that before…”

Yuuri pushed his face away. “There really is nothing wrong, Victor. I’m just thinking…”

“About what?”

“I guess in our crowded little room we call home, private thoughts don’t exist?” Yuuri smiled ruefully, leaning closer to rest his head on Victor’s shoulder. “One thought I will share, the stars look beautiful out here.”

“They just seem to go on for forever, don’t they?” Victor added, resting the palm of his hand on Yuuri’s thigh. “Sometimes, when I look up at the sky at night, I think about when I was young. I was looking at the same stars all those years ago, wishing for things I have right now. It’s amazing how those things work out.”

“I always wished to be a normal man.” Yuuri said quietly, as if he was ashamed to admit it, “Not recently, of course, I’ve learned the benefits of being who I am, but when I was a child, there was just so much I couldn’t do. You know, omegas like me, we’re held in the lowest regard out of anybody. It’s not like that out here, really. I like that.”  
  
“Man or woman, alpha or omega or nothing, if you don’t work, you don’t survive. Some people still discriminate, but I think you’ll find those are the people who come from the east. People don’t let go of tradition easily.”

“I think tradition is all some people have. You know, when you have absolutely nothing, it’s easiest just to turn to something well known. Like for some, it’s religion. When my son died, I prayed a lot. I felt like God was the only one that would listen to me.”

“Do you still believe in God?”

Yuuri eyes flitted shut. “Do you?”

“No, I don’t. Not anymore.”

“Well, I.. I do. Of course I do. It’s comforting, to think of a heaven. A place where my child is safe and protected instead of just… just gone.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think of things that way.” Victor said, “What do you picture him looking like, anyway?”

“If he was still here?” Yuuri hummed, “Um, to be very honest, I can’t picture it anymore. Everything I try to imagine ends up being morphed with what I think my own child with you would look like, not that we’re having one.”

“And why did you name him what you did?”

“I don’t regret giving him his father’s last name one bit. Dee, he was different. His child lived in spite of her father and deserved to live completely separate from him. She’s never going to know Miles, she’s going to have two wonderful parents and never wonder why her last name is Parker. But my son, he… I wanted him, in that moment, to be a constant reminder to that man on what he did. So that he could never escape, there is a gravestone in Dover, though it is on an empty site, and his last name is there.” Yuuri hugged his knees. "Is that selfish of me?"

***

July 3rd, 1858

_We haven’t had rain since about a month ago. The land has gone so dry that I have almost forgotten what green grass looks like. This heat wave is so intense that it’s making people sick. We have to be careful with our water, but I’m so thirsty…_

_Yesterday, Victor didn’t drink anything at all, so this morning, I gave him almost all of my water during breakfast. He needs his strength more than any of us._

_I worry about the crops of the people around here. We haven’t grown much, but… if other crops fail, we won’t eat, either. And then we’ll be thirsty and hungry, and… this could end up terribly._

_Update on the house: we now have two rooms, not counting the loft, which I think Victor and I will keep for ourselves. I like the view._

  


July 17th, 1858

 

_Longest drought ever. The creek is getting so slim that we have to travel quite a few miles to draw water. The well at Jesse Parker’s farm has nearly run dry. Travelers heading west aren’t pleased about this predicament either. Victor says there are a lot more gravestones running up the trail because of it._

 

July 21st, 1858

 

_No water.  
Gave Yura the last of my ration at supper. We will have to go draw some more tomorrow. _

_Victor hasn’t drank in several days. He’s starting to fall ill. I may have to go alone._

 

July 22nd, 1858

 

_My husband is too weak to stand. There is no water anywhere nearby. I am leaving now to find something for him to drink… praying for some rain…_

 

***

 

Yuuri left their house just as the sun started to rise. He took his horse and led her slowly towards the creek making sure not to wear her out. His lips were so very chapped that if he opened his mouth, they'd crack and bleed, so he just kept his mouth closed. His head ached, his eyes threatened to close because he was  _so tired_...

By the time he reached the creek, his exhaustion from the heat threatened to send him unconscious. He fought off all his struggles and tugged his canteen from his side to fill with water. But when he crouched in the dust, he was surprised to find that the creek had completely run dry. He dropped his canteen, trembling. "No." He said simply, lips cracking. He flinched. The heat burned down onto the back of his neck, and he was suddenly overcome with dizziness. "T-There's got to be more water." He crawled to the river bed... "V-Victor needs water..." He palmed the ground, where just the slightest bit of mud sat. There might have been a drop of water sitting there. Yuuri bent over and licked at it, then coughed because of the foul taste. "Shit..." He wiped the blood from his mouth, and then— tasting the mud again— vomited what little was left in his system. "No, no!" Yuuri wept bitterly, falling face first into his own spit. "I-hi c-can't  _do_ this anymore!" He lost his strength. He gave up, guilt eating away at his chest, knowing how weak Victor was at home— he was counting on him and he... he failed! "I'm sorry Victor," He whispered. "I'm... I'm not strong enough..."

"So that's it. You're giving up on your man. The one you had so much trust in that you just dropped everything for in the east? And now you're just going to cry here like the little bitch you are?" Yuuri could hear  _his_ voice, but knew he wasn't really there. It'd just been too long since he had any water, that's all. Still, it was unnerving, and Yuuri bumped his head against the dirt, as if that'd stop it. He heard  _his_ voice in his ear. "I always knew you weren't shit. And you know what? There's probably tons of water up the creek. Your ass is just too lazy to go out and find it."

"T-There's no water, anywhere..." Yuuri whispered. "We  _have_ searched."

"So, you had no backup plan? You were really trying to wait this drought out? So stupid. Both of you, you're both some of the biggest dumbasses I've ever met. You let this happen."

"We had so much to do, w-with the house and the barn and... and we just... there's just never enough time..."

"You've got to do better. What was it you said last year, about being stronger? Clearly you're not fucking trying hard enough. Do. Better."

Yuuri's lips quivered, and he lost consciousness.  _I can't..._

_So it's over, isn't it? I couldn't make it out here, just like everyone warned me. I never was strong enough._

.

Yuuri woke, though he was unsure of the time or if he was even still alive, to droplets of rain hitting his cheek. He was too weak to stand, too weak to process that it was raining, but soon, a downpour started. He simply rolled onto his back and opened his mouth.

Some time later, he gathered a significant amount of water, knowing the well would fill at home, and returned to his horse, who'd drank her fair share, too. He went home, knowing in his heart that he may have been too late. Fortunately, Victor was sitting on the porch, still weak— but alive, and that was what mattered. Someone stood by him, and when Yuuri got closer, he was shocked to see it was none other than Christophe Giacometti. "Ah, there he is!" Chris whistled, grinning from ear to ear. He met Yuuri in the yard. "I was about to go look for you. Rain feels good, doesn't it?"  
  
"Very good..." Yuuri said, allowing Chris to take the reins of his horse. "But Chris, what- what are you doing here?"

"The post burned down." Victor said for him, flask clasped firmly in his hand. "Lightning struck it two weeks ago. It's toast."

"Shit." Yuuri was offered to sit with the men, but went straight for his door. "Where will you go now, Chris? Will you stay with us?"

"I will be looking around, exploring my options. But thank you." He said, wondering why Yuuri so strongly avoided eye contact with the two of them. 

"Hey, I'm the one that should thank you. Hey, Yuuri, Chris had water, and he found me looking like a— what did you say, a shriveled  _what_?"  
  
Yuuri shut the front door and went to lie down in the comfort of his straw mattress.  _I will never be strong enough to survive out here._

***

There was a small village that had been developing over the recent years about fifteen miles from Fort Kearney. It was a straight shot from their home and housed something Yuuri was actually excited about; a schoolhouse. Of course, there weren’t any professional teachers, yet, the only one being a young girl of about eighteen from the east, but Yuuri knew that things could only improve over the years.

Both himself and Michael Altin agreed that their sons should attend. There was only so much that they could teach them, and the schoolhouse actually had textbooks.

On the first Monday of September, Michael and Otabek Altin came by to pick up Yura as their home was on the way to the schoolhouse.

Yura glared at Yuuri for making him wear nicer clothes than he normally did and for giving him a haircut, but by the time he was seated in the back of the cart, he was all smiles.

Yuuri remembered being in college, studying to be a teacher. He wondered how different his life might have been if only he had completed his studies…

But no, fate chose a different path for him. A path that involved a lot of hard work, but he was sure it was the one he was meant to be on.

Yuuri wasn’t sure what to do in the hours that Yura was gone. Victor spent most of the morning outside, doing whatever chores he could think of, Yuuri had supper over the fire, and soon he grew bored and went outside to find what Victor was doing. Since he wasn’t particular busy, either, Yuuri dragged him inside to waste an hour or two. They didn't have any worries with the crops, water, or the house, but their money was all but gone and Yuuri knew that they were going to start majorly struggling. He wondered how much longer Victor was going to pretend they weren't, even on those late nights when the two of them sat at the table going over finances and Victor did the thing were he held a hand to his head, looking  _so_ frustrated. Money was so tight that Yuuri had to stop wearing shoes to save them for the winter. He never got a new pair of glasses, and his old ones were apt to break at any time now.

Sometimes, even if it was just a few moments hidden away in their bed, it was nice to forget.

After that, they went down to the pond and sunbathed, the sun feeling good on Yuuri’s bare skin. The rolling fields of wheat around him swayed like waves on the sea, reminding Yuuri of one of the first things Victor had ever written to him. He beamed, looking at his husband wade through the cold water. “Victor…”  
  
“Yes, love?”  
  
“Someday, will you take me back to the coast? Just to visit, but… I think Yura would really like the ocean.”

“Of course. Maybe in the next year or two, even, for God only knows where we’ll be by then.”

“Yeah…”

Yuuri knew, like always, that his words were just a dream of his. He would never return to the east, for they would never be able to afford it. The midwest had become his home, and he was learning to become content with it. Still, in the very back of his mind, Victor's promise always lingered. 

 

* * *

 

October, 1860

Dover, Delaware

***

Victor tried coming back to the Katsuki’s house that night, but the front door was locked and no one answered when he knocked. The lights were still on in Yuuri’s bedroom. He tossed a few pebbles at his window, and Yuuri pulled the curtains shut.

He ended up staying the night at Mari’s inn, though he did not sleep.

That’s basically how things went for the next two days.

.

 

By the second full day, Victor had slept a total of about three hours. He spends his time walking Dover’s streets as if he is a tourist. They had nice trinkets to purchase in this town, delicious seafood restaurants, and so on, but towns like this bored him. He knew that everyone knew everyone and gossiped behind their hands at the strange man pacing back and forth and around the home of the Pierce’s, never coming up the front path or answering when asked what he was doing.

He snaps on his third lap around Jennie Pierce’s house. He has been apart from Yuuri and his children for two days, as Yuuri refused to see him and Victor was tired of waiting around for him to come out of his room. He could ask, demand, or beg, to see his daughter, but Yuuri was stubborn and would not comply. And Yura refused to leave without Yuuri. Last night, even, Yuuri’s father suggested that he stay away for awhile to save himself the time. It was a huge mess.

Apparently, Mrs. Jennie Pierce and two others came to the Katsuki’s house the day before to essentially call out Yuuri, but Mr. Katsuki turned them out, for which Victor is glad for. But now, now he’s so conflicted, he’s not in the best of places. He can’t stop thinking about the murder. That man’s mother is still looking for him, thinking he’s alive out there, when in reality he is far away and underground, and Victor wants to tell her that. An honest confession to put her fears to rest and allow her to grieve.

He knows that telling Mrs. Pierce what happened would mean admitting his crime and death soon after, but if he has to be alone for the rest of his life, then that’s what he deserves. Well, he’s a murderer now and deserves to be killed anyway, and it’s just a matter of time before the crime is traced back to him…

Every day that he wakes up next to Yuuri— who can sleep so very peacefully now— he is grateful to see his peace, but he is constantly reminded of the thorn in his side: _I killed someone and I will be punished for it._

He wonders if he admits what he’s done now (in self defense) that perhaps his punishment would be lighter. But anyone who found the body would know that it went far beyond self defense. Shooting someone who attacked you is self defense. Shooting someone who stood in front of you and asked you to kill them is not.

And when he is killed for his crimes (will he be hung?), Yuuri will be there and he will hate him for doing what Yuuri does not realize that he _had_ to do…

“Excuse me, sir,” Victor did not realize that he has been frozen in the middle of a sidewalk until an unfamiliar man gently grabs his arm, pulling him back into reality. “Are you alright?”

“No, no…” Victor swallows hard, meeting the eyes of the man. He is a priest, in full robes. Perhaps his listless walking interrupted him and his parishioners, as he realizes he is standing in front of a church. “I’m sorry, Father. I… I just have a lot on my mind right now.”

“So I see…”

Victor is welcomed inside the church. It is empty, but the candles of the altar are all lit as if a service was to take place at that moment. The priest takes him into the back, where he lives, and offers Victor some food. It is simple, bread, butter, and water, but Victor eats so quickly it might seem that he hasn’t in days (which is true). He then offers Victor to use his heated tub and lets him borrow some layman clothing. (Not stylish in the slightest, incredibly plain and worn, but comfortable). He protests none of this.

He gets to wash and shave, and then dresses, already feeling a little bit better than he had these past few reckless days. “Sleep, sir, you are exhausted,” The priest says, showing him to a freshly made cot. “When you are rested, we will talk more.”

Victor sleeps until late into the afternoon. When he wakes, the priest feeds him again; some sort of soup that he again consumes incredibly quickly. When he is finished, he feels a hundred times better. But the trouble still remains. Just before the priest speaks to him, Victor asks, “Do you do confessions?”

.

“Bless me Father, for I have sinned…” His knees ache against the wooden pew below him and sweat pours down his face though he has yet to say a word. The priest on the other side of the thin partition has no idea what was coming. In just a few moments, he will regret taking Victor in. “It has been at least fifteen years since my last confession. I guess that’s probably a sin, too. I’m not very good at this church thing.”

“That’s alright, it’s never too late to come back. Now, may God, the Father of mercies, help you make your confession…”

Victor knows that once he utters the words, he will lose control of his emotions. He wasn’t one to confess his sins but since murdering the man ten months previously, it has plagued his conscience. If he decides to believe in an afterlife, he knows that there is no way that God would let him in. Killing someone is probably the biggest rule breaker in existence.

“Go on, child…”

“I - I killed someone.” Victor sinks his head and rests it against the wall of the confessional. “I just got so angry. I shot him several times before the last shot that killed him. He’s dead.”

“Who was this man? Did you know him?” He knows that the priest was surprised to hear it and probably saw him as nothing more than hellbound now.

“He… he raped my spouse before and after I married him, and he was proud of it. He was about to rape him again the night I killed him, he was going to kill _me_ and then take my spouse someplace… he was evil! I - there was nothing else I thought I could do? What, was I to let him? No matter where I moved my family he always came back!” Victor was audibly crying now and he wondered if the priest could even offer any words of comfort. “I’m afraid of dying and going to hell for this, that’s what the man told me before he died…”

“Have you told anyone about this? Does your spouse know? The authorities? Has anyone reported this man missing or come to you asking about his whereabouts?”  
  
“No, Father, only my spouse, no one else,” Victor felt like his throat was constricting from his anxiety. “But if they do, I can’t deny what I’ve done. And surely I’ll be hung for it. I’ve never done anything like this before and I am haunted by it… because I am not sorry for what I did and I'm not even sure if I was the one that pulled the trigger, and—"

“I can’t imagine you being sorry for protecting your family. You aren’t the first man to have to kill. Sometimes people don’t have a choice, you know?”

Victor stays quiet.

“What was his name?”  
  
“—.”

Something changed in the priest at that moment. “I knew him well. He confessed his sins to me once but was proud of them and was not asking for forgiveness. He thought if he simply told me that God would be okay with what he did. I can assure you He is not.”

“I wanted to tell his mother. She is still looking for him.”

“I think she will come to realize it in her own time. Now, tell me… is this the reason you were so distraught?”

.

Victor looks like a new man when he exits the church that evening. He passes by Mrs. Pierce’s home and decides that he will write to her anonymously long after they have left Dover and tell her of her son’s death. He will also write to Chris to ensure that their stories match. He thinks he'll tell her the truth as it is, that her son killed himself after many years of suffering. That he was a very, very sick man.

_And I'm determined that only makes one of us._

He walks back to the Katsuki’s home and knocks on the door instead of trying to come right in as he usually would. His mother answers, looking a bit confused. “Wha—”  
  
“Is Yuuri Katsuki here?” He asks, knowing well that Yuuri is looking at him through the parlor window at this very moment, as he had spotted him on the sidewalk before even coming into the yard. “I would like to speak with him, if he should allow me.”  
  
“I will ask. Wait here…” She smiles knowingly and walks into the parlor. Victor waits patiently and doesn’t feed Yuuri’s curiosity by refusing to look at the parlor window. Mrs. Katsuki returns. “I was informed there is no Yuuri Katsuki at this residence.”

“Oh? How silly of me. I must’ve come to the wrong home. Forgive me, ma’am.” Calmly, he turns away and walks down the front steps and out to the garden’s gate before he’s called after by a different voice. “Victor, wait.”

It is Yuuri. He smiles faintly and opens the gate like he didn't hear.

“I was just playing, you know that! You said Yuuri _Katsuki_ and I think both of us know that I haven’t gone by that name in years! Like, not even my own family members call me that, and...”

He does not face him, but pauses. “How is my daughter doing, Yuuri Katsuki?”

“She’s well… but she misses you.” He hears Yuuri’s footsteps come down the front path. He is barefooted. “And… so do I. I want to put the argument behind us. Can we talk?”

“Ah… that would be what I came here for. Came here for that yesterday too, and the day before, but you wouldn’t see me.”

“I was angry with you. When I realized… that you deserved to know the truth— the _whole_ truth— and came to terms with what I’ve done, I… I wasn’t angry anymore? Obviously I’m still upset about things but I’m not… not angry…” He touches Victor’s shoulder. “Please don’t go. I’ve been worried about you. People said you were wandering aimlessly around town and that you lost your mind.”

“I did.”

Yuuri hugs him from behind, face pressed against Victor’s shoulder. He doesn’t know what to say.

“I’m better now, but I want to go home.”

Yuuri’s breath hitched. “We agreed to stay for the—”

“I didn’t say anything about where _you_ had to be. _I_ want to go home.”

“W-Well then… I will go and pack.” Yuuri steps back. “The reason I brought up our agreement is because of our house being inadequate for an infant…”  
  
“I wasn’t intending on returning to Nebraska, at the moment, anyway…”

“Then… where?”

“Would you like to find out?”

Yuuri bites his lip. “Where were you all day? How do I know you’re better now? Can we _please_ talk?”  
  
“We are talking right now, aren’t we?”

Yuuri frowns. “You’re being short with me…”

“It wasn’t my intention. I admit that I’m still very tired and I don’t know what else you want me to say..”

“Come inside, then. I’m sure Lara will be glad to see you, at the very least. Yura’s cross with you, but that’ll pass.” He rubs Victor and kisses his neck. “Please come inside.”

.

Yuuri tucks his husband in bed in his messy childhood room and immediately blushes when realizing that Victor notices the mess. “Ah… Lara’s been quite fussy these past two days and um… I haven’t been tidy. I’m sorry.”

“A mess doesn’t bother me,” mumbles Victor, eyes sliding shut. He seems to be asleep in minutes. Yuuri hurriedly tidies up his room, then returns downstairs to talk to his parents about the strange behavior of his husband…

.

Victor wakes sometime in the night to the sound of his daughter crying in another room. _Why didn’t Yuuri sleep with me_?

Bleary eyed, Yuuri has lit his candle and walks back and forth with her in front of the window of Yura’s bedroom, but she won’t be soothed. He freezes when he sees Victor standing at the door. “Did she wake you? I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for. Were you sleeping in here?”

“I haven’t been able to sleep.” Yuuri smooths back Lara’s hair. He’s clearly exhausted.

“Has she been fed?”  
  
“Yes, but she doesn’t want any now.”

“I’ll take her then.”

“Are you… sure?”  


“Come on, I haven’t seen her in two days.” Victor takes the crying infant into his arms and rests her against his chest and shoulder. He pats her back and brings her back into Yuuri’s room. Yuuri hesitantly follows, lingering by the door for a while until she has calmed down in her father’s arms. “Unbelievable.”

“She missed me.” Victor says simply, motioning for Yuuri to join him in bed. “Why haven’t you slept? Besides the crying.”

“Worry.” Yuuri says. He does sit on the bed, but he doesn’t lay down. “You’re worrying me. And what was that earlier, about moving someplace else? I don’t understand. I just really want to talk with you about… about _several_ things, so we can get everything sorted out and I can finally rest.”

“Fine. Look in the breast pocket of my coat. One of your answers lies there.”

“Okay…” Yuuri slips out of bed and opens his closet. After a bit of looking around, he finds an envelope and returns to the bed. Legs crossed, he looks at Victor, silently asking if he can open it.

“Go ahead.”

When Yuuri opens the envelope, he is confused to find a sketch of a house. Detailed, showing different windows, exits, colors for the walls, prices, location, and so forth. His eyes move to the word Virginia after a second or two and he gasps. “What… is this?” When Victor didn’t respond, Yuuri held one of the papers to the light. “This is a deed. What— how…?”

“Would you like to take a quick trip to Virginia with me tomorrow?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri's Christmas Gift to Victor is nsfw and will be added to the Frontier AU separately. It just doesn't fit in this story ig so make sure to subscribe to the au if you wanna see how that went.  
> -
> 
> I bet y'all were confused towards the end of the chapter when it switched back to 1860, like— huhhhhhhhh....?
> 
> So um, 
> 
> next time is not the last chapter. There may be a few more, I'm really unsure at the moment and will be figuring out how much story I need to fit in and where. Reminder: originally, this fic was planned for just 7 chapters, and things have just really expanded. I thought 10k per chapter would be enough to tell a story, but things just keep getting deeper, don't they? 
> 
> So you can help me by telling me: what seems to be the missing link between the past and present portions of the story? 
> 
> See you next time!


	10. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Focused solely on the current timeline, Victor takes Yuuri to present-day West Virginia to see the new house. Yuuri, however, is very conflicted. 
> 
> And the tailor's wife can't stop talking about Yuuri's outfit to her coworker, Lara.

October, 1860

Dover, Delaware

 

* * *

Yuuri goes downstairs with the deed after Victor has fallen asleep and sets it in front of his father to examine. His mind is racing with the possibilities entering his life and all that moving could mean for him and his family. "Well, it appears to be legitimate. It was signed in June of this year. Did you go to Virginia this year, Yuuri?" His father says, removing his glasses.

"No, I haven't been past Missouri in almost six years. Now, he very well could've gone, being that I hadn't seen him since May. That sly bastard..." Yuuri mumbles. "Does it say where the house is located?"  
  
"No. That's why I'm skeptical. I'd like to know at least where you're going, you know?"

"In case you don't come back," Mari chimes in, and Yuuri gives her a look. "What? Victor's looked full on crazy these past few days. What if he's just taking you somewhere to gut you and hide your body?"  
  
" _Mari_ ," Yuuri says sternly, "you're overthinking all of this! Victor was upset because of something  _I_ did, okay?" He takes a breath. "All of this is my fault. I-I'll admit that there's some things that- that I really had no control over but... I've made things miserable for him, I honestly have. You all know I'm not easy to live with." His mother gives him a look of sympathy, but Yuuri continues, "He's never done anything to me. He's been good as gold, he made clear what his career was going to be like weeks before we married, and yet all I could do was complain about it for  _years_ , like I was more important than having money for food, for what we need to survive.. I've been so selfish and I feel so terrible." And God, thinking back to how often he made a fuss about Victor's career made him cringe. Victor was just trying to provide for them, for God's sake. 

"No, don't say something like that. You didn't know what you were getting yourself into, is all." His mother says, "Moving so far away, to a life you were completely inexperienced in, away from everything you've ever known, that's a big change, Yuuri. You needed time to adjust and it makes sense that you weren't happy with some of how things are out there."

"I wouldn't have lost my son if you didn't kick me out." Yuuri says darkly, eyes instantly darting to meet his mother's, looking shocked, like he hadn't meant to say it aloud. It wasn't a statement completely relevant to their conversation, but those words, that thought, have been burning inside his head for years. They had to come out at some point, and though he's sad it had to be that moment, he's relieved to have finally said it.

The room is dead silent. Like none of them know what to say. Or maybe they have nothing to say at all, maybe they don't care that his baby is dead...

Yuuri sinks his head into his hands for a moment, but he continues to speak. "Victor would often offer to pay for a trip to Dover, so I could visit. And I'd tell him no. Because I'm still hurt. Victor, he..." a stream of tears begin to trickle down his cheeks, "he was able to look past my mistakes and- and see me for who I really am inside. So why,  _why_ , couldn't you, my  _family_ , do the same? Why did you have to abandon me like that? I- I had nothing!" His father starts to say something— finally— but Yuuri cuts him off. "Dad, I love you. But I- I've tried and... and I just can't put this behind me. I've tried to, I've tried so hard for the past five years, and I  _can't_ \- I just.... my son is dead because I had no place to go. You thought your reputation was worth more than his life, and for that, I cannot ever forgive any of you."

"We were wrong," His father says, and when he tries to put a hand on Yuuri's shoulder, he's swatted away. "You weren't even twenty, unmarried and had no plans for the future. We only ever wanted what was best for you, son. But still, I— we all know we were wrong for what we did, and I'd never think of asking your forgiveness. It makes perfect sense that you don't want to be near us."

Yuuri shakes his head. "That's the thing. I- sometimes I do want to visit, because I get lonely and I'm tired of feeling that way. But I feel like while you knew you were wrong, you aren't sorry for what you did. You think it was the best outcome, right? That's what... that's what everyone else thinks."

"I'm sorry." Mari says suddenly. "I regret sending you along to Baltimore all the time. You're my little brother, and I was supposed to look out for you. I failed, we all failed. We have just as much blood on our hands as that baby's father."

.

The gravesite hasn't changed since Yuuri was last here. It still serves as a reminder of the past, a reminder of how Yuuri's very own grave might have looked if he had really married that man. He glances at his worn wedding ring and knows that he really did get lucky. Not meaning that it was a good thing his son died, but permanently ending things with — really did help him in the long run. 

He runs his fingers over the words— simple, just a last name and 1854. Because there isn't anything more to his boy's story to the outside world. He lived for a few minutes and died. But to Yuuri, there is so much more. His story never really ends, because he will always live through Yuuri, through his sister, and through the unexplainable flower that grows over the grave. 

"I don't think I'm going to come back here anymore," Yuuri whispers to no one, stroking the side of the gravestone. "You're not here, and I know that. You haven't been with me in a long time. And your father isn't with us either, at last. I'm glad for that. He never loved you like I do. I-If you were still here, Victor would love you. I hope you approve of him. I- I know I said this a lot in the past, but I'm pretty sure he's the One, you know?" He chuckles. "He's a very good father. I wish he was your father instead, so I could still have you. But I can't, can I?" Yuuri rests his head on the gravestone, "It's hard, but I'm never gonna forget you, baby. I'm just need to let you go, so you can be free, so we  _both_ can be free..." The air smells of snow and Yuuri's tears spill onto the grave just thinking about the day he lost his baby. "After all, this is why you were named  _Yuki_."

When Yuuri comes back to his parents' home that night, he finds Victor awake, bleary eyed. He is probably thinking that Yuuri tried to leave him, that is, until he comes into the room. The baby's in the bassinet, sound asleep. He climbs into Victor's lap and hushes Victor's questions with kisses. He's... not feeling that great. And he needs a little love, is all. Fortunately, for him, Victor is always there to give it. He stays in Victor's lap for a long time, just feeling safe in his embrace.

.

Victor wakes three times in the night. Maybe it was because he wasn’t that tired, maybe because a lot was on his mind. Thinking about his failing marriage is enough to keep him awake for days, but there are other things, too.

The first time he wakes, Yuuri is facing him, awake, too (though anyone could see how sleepy he was) and Yuuri dozes off before him. Victor stares up at the ceiling of Yuuri’s childhood room. He wonders if he is the only man to have slept in this bed beside Yuuri. If his parents knew about any of that. What they thought of him.

And then he looks at his and Yuuri’s baby and starts thinking about the fact that _shit_ , she’s _real_ , they actually have a child together now and how she’s better than anything he could ever be given in life.  He wonders if she will ever have more brothers and sisters, if Yuuri will ever be up for that. How he carried her for nine months when life was hard enough as a normal person, is beyond him. He is so strong for it.

_And he must be so tired._

The second time, he wakes because the baby stirs, but before he can take care of her, Yuuri is already with her. He thinks they’re going to look alike.

The third time, it is still early in the morning, and both Yuuri and the baby are gone. Victor swears, kind of loudly, and rolls out of bed. He’s fed up with this bullshit. He bets Yuuri took the baby elsewhere to avoid Victor, because he thinks he’s the only one with rights to their child.

Victor pulls open Yuuri’s bedroom door and goes straight downstairs where he can hear some sort of conversation, neither of the voices being Yuuri. _Perhaps I should tell his parents about his behavior. They shouldn’t put up with it._ They are talking about a Nor’easter when Victor makes his presence known at the door of the kitchen. Then, they’re both quiet. He knows they don’t like him. He’s been told by plenty of people that the Katsuki’s are friendly and hospitable. And neither of them have really spoken to him at all this entire time. “You two wouldn’t happen to know where your son is, would you?”

“No, we don’t,” says Yuuri’s mother, and she doesn’t even look at him. She just returns to knitting. Yuuri’s father is starting the fire.

Victor scowls. “Then I suppose he left in the middle of the night.”

“He left?”

“You know what, I’m going to tell you something, Mr. and Mrs. Katsuki. Your son is the most stubborn man I have ever met in my entire life. Last night he promised me the day so that I could take him to Virginia, and I wake to him gone. Why, if he was going to act like this, I shouldn’t have come back at all!”

“Have you checked the other rooms?” Hiroko asks. Why is she looking so grim? What does she know?

“Every room on the top floor, anyway.”

“You speak too soon, then.”

Victor rolls his eyes. “I am going to dress, and when I come back down here, I am leaving for Virginia. If you know where he is, you’ll tell him that.”

.

Yuuri hums to himself as he comes up the front path and wonders if perhaps his parents have started breakfast yet. He is starved after such an early start, but his godmother was an early bird and wanted to see him before he left for Virginia. She gave him a plethora of gifts (he is wearing one of them, now, just to show Victor, and then he will change into something more practical. For a day [dress like this](http://ephemeral-elegance.tumblr.com/image/153886738630) simply wouldn’t do for traveling and likely visiting another farm. And apparently white dresses aren’t worn at this time of year, either. Yuuri would stick out like a sore thumb in some strange town wearing this. Still, he feels so regal wearing it, for it has been years since he has had reason to wear anything more than what’s completely practical. Why, he's been wearing the same two outfits since leaving for Nebraska three years ago.

When he comes through the front door, he finds Victor coming down the steps with his duffel. Both freeze when they see each other and Yuuri swears he can see a hint of a blush on his husband’s cheeks.

“Um, I…” Yuuri stammers, “my godmother bought this for me. She said… it’d be good for a spring party or christening or something… do you- do you like it?”

 _Did your godmother also curl your hair into ringlets around your face and paint your lips?_ Victor smiles weakly, setting down his bag.

“Obviously, um, I’m not wearing this to Virginia. That would be impractical, and-” He can see Yuuri is growing flustered, and Victor can imagine how much it would hurt him if he said he didn’t like the outfit. “I’ll go take it off now so we can—”  
  
“Please don’t.” Victor finally says, and Yuuri’s eyes light up. “You look beautiful in it, you know. I’ve never seen you in something so lovely. I’d like you to wear it on our trip.”

“O-Okay, I will.” Yuuri turns a shade of pink and bobs his head. “Sorry that I didn’t tell you that I—” He holds Yuuri by the shoulders and kisses him deeply to shut him up. Yuuri is quite surprised, to say the least, since he’s hardly been kissed since last year and none until now were anything of any good meaning. He hopes that this won’t be the only kiss he’s given. Victor licks his lips. “We can eat on the way. Shall we go now?”

Yuuri’s mouth parts, but nothing is spoken for a moment. He gazes up at Victor for a few seconds looking completely lost in his eyes. His face clears, and he nods slowly. "Yes." 

***

October, 1860 

Harper’s Ferry, Virginia 

(modern day: Harpers Ferry, West Virginia) 

 

The train rumbles over [the B&O Bridge](http://www.dgilbert53.net/?page_id=871#gallery/872/212) and Yuuri tries not to look down at the incredibly [large river](http://www.dgilbert53.net/?page_id=871#gallery/872/211) below them, but he is too curious not to gather in his surroundings as their trip is finally coming to a conclusion. “Is that the Potomac?” He asks Victor, who isn’t fazed by their height.

“No idea. This river meets the Potomac River here. The C&O Canal runs right through, but they have difficulty with flooding.”  
  
“Do they?” Yuuri gives him a critical look. _And you want to move us here?_

“There was a scandal here, last year. Since then it’s gained quite a bit of attention.”  
  
“Sounds like a terrible place to live.”  
  
“It really isn’t.”

“Name one good thing about it, then.”  
  
“It has a train station.”

“Okay, I’m intrigued.” Yuuri hides a smile behind his hand as the train pulled itself to a stop. It wasn’t a long ride, which Yuuri likes the idea of. He can see his family much easier if he does move here (and if he wants to). But that doesn’t mean he likes this place yet. They are high into the mountains, and Yuuri tries to figure out how many feet above his home in Dover he sits now. He then starts thinking about the winters here, since they are so high up.

“If we move, I already have a much better career in mind. I wouldn’t have to leave for so long. Never again. It might even pay higher, since less and less people are heading west the same way they used to." Victor muses.

“And how did you end up here, anyway?” Yuuri peers out at the unfamiliar faces at the station and reminds himself not to panic over it. “You never mentioned coming here before.”

“Just…” Victor seems nervous, like he doesn’t want to explain himself to Yuuri until he sees the house. “Um, we don’t _have_ to live here. I have every intention of selling it or renting it to someone if you don’t like it. In fact, I already know of a person who wants to rent it from me.”  
  
“You’re afraid I won’t like it.” Yuuri guesses, “Look, I really don’t know how to feel. You do know you should’ve brought this up with me before doing something so ridiculous, right?”  
  
“I do now.”

“We’re both terrible people, keeping secrets from each other like this. I suppose if things don’t work out between us, that you intend on living here?”

“You can pick.” Victor adds gravely. When the train has come to a complete stop, he leads Yuuri off the train onto the cobblestone street before them. Yuuri squints around, his eyes immediately drawn to a church high above them on a hill; its [steeple pointing high](http://www.dgilbert53.net/?page_id=448#gallery/449/66) into the crystal blue sky. “Why did you choose this place?”

“I know people here and they recommended it.” Victor shrugs. “Come, we will have to find my acqaintance and see about getting a lift to the house.”

“You mean it’s not _in_ town?”

“It is… kind of, but it’s a [steep hill](http://www.dgilbert53.net/?page_id=448#gallery/449/190), and…”  
  
“I can walk.” Yuuri says. “Which way?”

“Not with that baby, you aren’t.”

Victor’s acquaintance is young and he seems very excitable. He has a thick accent that is difficult to understand for Yuuri and seems to talk in a mesh of English and what Yuuri presumes is Russian. He shakes Yuuri’s hand about three times and says something along the lines of hearing “many things” about him.

And Yuuri does stick out like a sore thumb in this [town](http://www.dgilbert53.net/?page_id=448#gallery/449/48), for while people are wearing fine clothing here and there, no one is wearing white. They probably would think he just finished his own wedding if not for the infant in his arms.

“This way, Yuuri,” Victor touches the small of his back lightly and guides him to a coach. He offers him a hand to climb up to the seat and follows suit. Yuuri supposes the acquaintance is driving.

It isn’t a long drive, but Yuuri’s tired of… not talking. And he doesn’t want to talk about the pressing matters, not yet, anyway. “Victor, uh…” He looks around for something to talk about, and baby Lara is the first thing to come to mind. “What do you want her to call you?”  
  
“Huh?”  
  
“When she’s older, of course. I haven’t decided on what I want her to call me yet, but, what about you?”

“Oh, oh…” Victor looks at her for a few moments. “Well, I always called my father Papa. It is strange for me, knowing I've become a father like him and will go by the name I once called someone else. But there aren’t many other options.”

“Well, just go with what feels right. Hopefully she won’t resolve to calling you Victor like another child we know.”

“It’s a good thing he stayed home today. He’s been in such a terrible mood, hasn’t he?”

“It’s because he thinks we’re moving to Dover, and he wants to stay near his friend. I feel bad for him because of that. I don’t think Lara minds the move, though.” Yuuri says, avoiding the pressing topic once more because he's not quite ready to talk everything out. “She just wants you to be there with her, I think.”

“Does she?” Victor slips his finger into Lara’s palm and watches her grip it. “Did she tell you that, darling?”

“W-Well no, of course not. But… but I know how she feels.”  
  
“Really?”

Yuuri nods. “She hates when you go away. She… she doesn’t feel safe, and she misses you terribly. She’s happiest when you are with her.”

“Uh-huh, and… is she the only one that feels this way?”

He shakes his head. “No… um, I- I hate being alone, too.” Yuuri looks at him, “And _I’m_ happiest when we can just… be together. You know.”

“Believe me, I don’t like being alone either, love. I spent enough time that way.” He seals the gap between them and they kiss for a few moments. _I wonder why he’s so affectionate today. Perhaps it’s to pursuade me into accepting this house. Well, if that’s how we’re going to play…_ “Victor…” Yuuri says against his lips, “is there any place we could leave the baby that’s safe in that house?”

“Well, seeing that she can’t roll over or move otherwise, yes, why?”

“I want to sleep with you.”

.

They find themselves looking at a home about a quarter mile away from the others, partially hidden by quite a few trees. The backyard is large, apparently, and runs deep into the forest. Despite how high up they are, the road leading up is not an incredibly steep one and they must climb steps to get into the yard, which is mostly flat. From up here, Yuuri can see everything; the entire town, the river, the railroad…

“What a view…” Yuuri whispers.

The yard is fenced in by black iron, they actually have grass, and a stone pathway leading up to a large home made of painted white bricks. There are two levels and a visible attic, the house is wide with many windows, a brick front porch with beams on either side, and a balcony above that porch. The lights are off, so it is hard to see inside, and Yuuri’s still unsure if he likes it. Besides, there is nothing for him in this town. He knows no one, he has no idea what the school is like, where Victor will work, how the winters are here or if the river tends to flood (though he doubts any water would get all the way up here). “You said… you had an acquaintance who was willing to take this place off your hands. Who is that?”

“Y-You don’t like it?” Victor looks dejected, face starting to heat up. He turns his head, looking at one of the big oak trees in the yard so Yuuri won’t see him.

“No, that’s not what I meant! I’m just… curious! Do I know them?”

Victor sighs, and they continue up the path. “I would think so. While we were on our way down to Dover, I received a telegram from the man who built this house, saying a woman was interested in renting the house from me. I was put in contact by the time we got to Dover, and it was quite surprising, actually.” Victor palms his pocket for something and pulls out a large key. Yuuri tries peeking through the windows, but Victor reprimands him and orders him to wait.

“Well then, _who_ was it? Mila? Sara Crispino?”  
  
“No, they’re in Connecticut as you know.” The door swings open, and Yuuri walks through. He can’t pay attention to what is in front of him until he _knows_. “Was it Lara Giacometti?”

“Yes, Yuuri,” Victor says without missing a beat. “Yes it was.”

“Oh, my God.” Yuuri’s words come out in a whine, and he is close to tears. “H-Have you seen her? Did she mention me?”

“She didn’t know who I was, actually. The man who sold this house did not disclose my name to her. I told her I’d let her know by the end of the month. Apparently,” Victor rests against the wall by the door, “she had plans to remarry in the new year, but her fiance of eleven months called off their engagement, so she just wants a place to be alone in.”

“How terrible.” Yuuri murmurs. Because Victor is looking at him so expectantly, Yuuri shifts his attention back to the house. It is very lovely, he will admit. He is shown a kitchen, dining room with a brand new, wooden table and matching chairs, a living room, and his favorite addition— a parlor with a fireplace, piano (how on earth did they get it up here??) and some comfortable sofas. The ceilings are high, and the windows are floor-to-ceiling. “I thought it’d be dusty in here,” says Yuuri as he walks beside Victor up the staircase. _How will I ever clean cobwebs from ceilings so high?_ When they reach the top of the railing, Yuuri is met with an open space, _good for perhaps a side table, a chair, and a bookshelf with a rug underneath_ , and several doors.

“Someone’s been here to clean this week for me.” Victor explains. He goes to the left, towards the only door on that side. There is one adjacent to it, too, and Yuuri wonders if it’s a bedroom. “This was supposed to be our bedroom. There is a smaller room attached, and though there is a nursery on the other side of the hall, I think now you’d be more comfortable with the baby sleeping in this room.”

The smaller room is empty, but Yuuri starts to visualize where he would put her cradle, a rocking chair, perhaps, a dresser… From the windows in the back of the room, they have a view of the forest. _Curtains, definitely,_ he decides. “Perhaps when she is a little older. Right now I’d like to keep her with us, until at least she can roll over.”

He is given a tour of the rest of the house, and then Victor drags an old cradle from the original nursery to the new nursery and Yuuri sets Lara inside. She is content for now, and Yuuri closes the door behind him when he finds himself in their bedroom.

It is their first, second, and third time since late winter. Victor hikes Yuuri’s skirts up instead of removing the dress for the first round, but Yuuri insists on removing it by the time the second round comes along because he “doesn’t want to ruin it”. Victor helps him with the various ties and buttons, and they drape it across an old chair so it won’t get dirty. Yuuri’s left in a crinoline and a corset. “Why are you wearing a corset,love?” Victor murmurs, face buried deep into the crinoline. “Could the dress not fit without it?”  
  
“It could, but I… I just thought it might look better.”

“How about you wear the dress without the corset when we’re done? I’m sure it can’t be comfortable.”

“O-Okay… Victor?"  
  
"Hm?"

“I missed you so much.”

Victor doesn’t need to ask him to elaborate. Even though they’ve been with each other for close to a month now, there has been something missing. Victor thinks this is part of it, but there is more, and Yuuri won’t have to say he misses him anymore.

“Oh, _detka_ ,” Victor slips out of him, “I missed you, too. And that picture of you was fucking hot, by the way. Now that I know its intention, I think I’ll have it framed.”

.

It is early in the afternoon by the time they are back where they started: the front yard. They walk together, Victor carrying the baby and Yuuri staying quiet. Something seems to be paining him, but Victor’s unsure as what. Perhaps it’s just because they were a little rough. He thinks nothing of it.  
  
Yuuri sits under one of the trees with Lara and tries to make a decision that is both good for him and his children. But his brain is clouded with a million other thoughts and it is hard to make that choice, not when he's so overwhelmed. He passes the baby to Victor and starts to pace.

“So?” Victor picks at pieces of grass and is doing his best not to look impatient.

“I really don’t know.”  
  
Victor’s face falls.

“It’s not that I don’t like it! I do, I really, really do! The location is _stunning_ , the house is— it’s more than I could ever have dreamed of, honestly! But…” He sighs, “can we really manage something like this? I know we can’t afford it. We’d have to start completely over, _again_ , and- and Yura was doing so well in Nebraska, he has friends there and you know how hard it is for him to socialize with new people… then there’s the tensions here… how do I know that it will be safe to stay here? How will I feel safe raising our daughter here?”

“Is it really going to be safe _anywhere_ , if there’s a war?” Victor’s voice is a little stern. Yuuri knows he worked hard to make this home happen and that he’s very let down about it.

“It’ll certainly be safer in Nebraska than in a border state like this.”

“The decision is _yours_ , Yuuri. I just thought you wanted a better life than what I am able to give you out there, and I tried. I wanted to make things work for us and never have another worry.”  
  
“Life’s full of those. We’ve always managed to make things work, Victor, and…”  
  
“Were you happy in Nebraska? Were you _completely satisfied_ with our life there?”

“Well- well no, but—”

“Then that answers your question.”  
  
“But I don’t know if I’ll be happy _here_!” Yuuri covers his face. “I’m so sorry. I’m ruining everything for you. I’m just… not sure yet? I need to think about this.”

“Certainly. Take all the time you want. There is a train heading back to Baltimore in about two hours. You can go back to Dover and think about it there.”

“You’re not coming back?”  
  
“No, I’m not going back to Dover.”

“What…? Why?”  
  
“Should I list the reasons? Hmm… your parents fucking hate me, I have nothing to do, the people in town think I’m a maniac, there’s absolutely nothing for me to care about there.”  
  
“Then why did we bother going there, huh? Why didn’t you just take us right to this place, then?”  
  
“I wanted you to see your parents, I had planned this for quite some time! Especially before I knew you were having my child!”

Yuuri folds his arms. “I will go. One of us has to, besides, as our one of our children are still there.”

“Have a safe trip, then. I will be here if you need me.”

“Victor, _please_ ,” Yuuri flails his arms. “What do you want me to do, abandon my child? We have to go get him from Dover. And I don’t know why you think my parents hate you, they _don’t_.”

“You only see what you want to see, Yuuri. That’s the only way it’s ever been.”

Yuuri scowls. “I’ve proven that those pictures were never sent to him, so _why_ are you still cross with me?”

“You do your best to dodge the truth and give only vague answers, love. If what you say is true, and you had no contact with him, then _why_ would you ever suspect he got you pregnant?”

Yuuri feels heat rise to his face and looks down.

“I asked a midwife in Dover about due dates. I asked if Lara seemed to be born prematurely because she had come by the house and seen the baby. She said no. And going by the dates, she was _not_ conceived in late January, as you initially believed, but rather somewhere between the twenty fifth and thirty first of December. If she was conceived the night you said, she would have been about three or four weeks early. And being born at over eight pounds, my dear, that seems incredibly unlikely.”

“I- I got the dates mixed up.” Yuuri says quietly. “And… and I wasn’t on my cycle around Christmas. I couldn’t have been. And— besides, if you’re referring to December, I don’t remember us ever…”

“I can tell you that in the state I was in that day in January would not have produced a baby. But please share, Mr. Katsuki, on why you thought our friend — might have contributed. I’d like to hear the evidence.”

Yuuri sniffles, nearly overwhelmed with his embarrassment. “Um… I- I…” He starts to cry, but Victor doesn’t back down. He’s tired of this being put off. “A few days after _that…_ I was cleaning our bedroom? And… and I found a clump of hair behind the dresser. It was my own…? I mean, it matched the color. But it was long, like… really long compared to what I have? And I had cleaned our room thoroughly after Christmas, so it just appeared there. And I thought back to when, to when _he_ cut off all my hair, _he’s_ the only one that would’ve kept it…” He rubs at his eyes. Victor offers him his kerchief. “So I wanted to ask you about it, but you weren't home because you were gone for three days after you killed him on “business”, which of course I found strange at the time… I went for a walk and- and I found a cart in our old abandoned shed… there were letters from me, from him to me, and- and one of them s-said…” He squeezes his eyes shut, big tears trickling down his cheeks. “T-That he had been camping in the woods, waiting for the right time. He said e-even from the windows he watched me by, he could smell me, and he said he wanted to finish what we started five years ago… so what was I supposed to think?!”

“You should’ve told me—”  
  
“ _YOU should’ve told me_ !” Yuuri shouts at him. “ _You_ made it worse in March, when I complained of my cycle being late! Because you said that since you hadn’t knotted me yet this year, it certainly wouldn’t be yours!” He doesn’t let Victor intervene, and continues, “So when I realized I was pregnant, when I saw the evidence that _he_ was here, and _you_ denied any part in it, I- I assumed the worst! I couldn’t tell you because I had no idea if I was even going to be able to carry her to full term after the trauma of my last! And then if she wasn’t yours? With the evidence you thought you had against me?! You’d never forgive me!”

Victor is speechless. Looking back, he sees why the two of them did what they did. But knowing the truth now, on both sides, he sees how much easier their lives would have been if only they talked to each other, though it’s really Victor’s doing. He was too mad at Yuuri to tell him about their visitor, because of the pictures, the stupid pictures….

“Yuuri, I’m sorry.”

Yuuri glances up at him through his puffy eyes and just stares. Like he’s expecting more than an apology.

“I don’t know if I killed him, really.”

“How..”

“He pulled the trigger for me. I was too weak to finish him. I don’t know why. I always told you I’d kill him when I saw him, but I was just so afraid of him. He called me a coward a ton of times, he’s probably right.”

“You’re not a coward for not wanting to kill.”

“I’m not?”

“No, of course not, Victor! If someone offered me a gun, and he was tied to a tree, I don’t think I could do it! I didn’t want him dead. I just wanted him to pay for what he did. And… and I think he did. His life was miserable.”

“He lost another kid after yours, a girlfriend, your parents casted him out publicly—“

“Th-they did…?”

“Apparently your father threatened him, too.”

Yuuri shrugs. “It’s not like he didn’t deserve it.”

“He didn’t know the baby was dead, apparently.”

“He didn’t want it, he never did. But I did… I wanted him so much.” After Yuuri says this, he moves to sit by him under the tree, so close that they are nearly touching. “And when I look at Lara, I see a little bit of him in her. I still miss him, now more than ever.”

“I can tell. You don’t have to stop missing him just because you have another child. It’s okay to hurt.”

“Then by default, it’s okay for you to hurt, too. I understand you’re very angry with me. I robbed you of the experience of—”

“I was there when she was born. I wasn’t completely robbed. I just didn’t enjoy it, because I had no idea what the hell was happening.” Victor pokes his ribs, “I’ll get over it. Just don’t ever try hiding something like that from me again.”

“I won’t.” Yuuri is flesh against him, and he laces their fingers together. “I feel a little better now, now that you and I have gotten the truth out. The question is: where do we go from here?”

“I want to leave that up to you.” Victor says. He gives his hand a gentle squeeze.

“For once, I wish you’d just tell me what to do, because I’m really horrible at making the right choices. So what do you want me to do?”

“Stay? After we get Yura from Dover, of course. Give this place the winter. We can have your family here for Christmas. And if you don’t like it, we’ll go back to Nebraska in the spring. What do you say?”

Yuuri observes his surroundings. Everything seems so serene here. Peaceful. It’s already starting to grow on him, but he won’t admit it. “Okay.”

***

They make gentler love that night, and by then, Yuuri is successfully worn out and decides to call it a night. Victor holds him close and for a while they just talk— about small, unimportant things, and Yuuri begins to believe that the storm is finally finished. Their argument is over, the truth is said and suspicions are cleared: Lara was made in December, not January, and Yuuri was already pregnant by the time his terrible, terrible ex came about. And that makes him feel so much better. Of course, the fact that Victor asked a midwife in the first place implies he did have suspicions about his paternity.

Yuuri places a hand over Victor's chest and tries to get comfortable in this big, quiet house. It's definitely warmer than their home in Nebraska, if that means anything to him. It's probably not safer or anything like that, but the only person Yuuri has ever truly feared is dead, and therefore he has nothing to fear. Okay, so maybe that logic isn't going to make it in all of life's situations, but it'll do for now. 

Just when he gets settled enough to sleep, he realizes he has to use the bathroom. Grumbling to himself about believing his no longer pregnant body was "leaving certain things behind", he blindly finds his way to the new bathroom. He looks out one of their many windows at the bright moon, and he thinks he can see a train coming across the river from here. When he is done in the bathroom, he goes to find Lara and take her back into their room. She needs a diaper change, so Yuuri goes to find where they left the diapers. He hears Victor call for him and winces, knowing how suspicious Victor still probably is of him attempting to leave. He has no intention of leaving, of course, and he's unsure of just where Victor thinks he would go in an unfamiliar town. "Just looking for diapers," Yuuri calls back to him. He finds several diapers in his own duffel and eventually carries Lara into their room. "Sorry, I—"  
  
Victor is staring at the wall. "Yuuri, do you still believe in God?"

"Why, what's this—"  
  
"I'm still worried about going to hell."

.

He wakes to Victor’s side of the bed shifting and watches him carefully through squinted eyes. The sun isn’t up, but he’s getting dressed.

“Victor.”  
  
He jumps. “Shit, Yuuri, you just—”

“What are you doing?” Yuuri asks in a small voice. Their baby is asleep, too, so there’s no actual reason for him to—

“I’m going out to cut some more logs for the fire.” Victor says nonchalontly.

“What time is it?”  
  
He shrugs. “I don’t know. But it’s cold, and the fire’s gone dim.”  
  
“Okay. But don't you think it can wait, just until the sun comes up?" 

"I won't be long."

.

Next time he wakes, Lara is crying beside him, Victor is not there, and the sun has risen. Yuuri scowls. “Victor..."

He lifts his daughter and moves to look out the window at the yard. Sure enough, there is Victor, cutting up far too much wood. Again. He closes his eyes, just for a second. _Not again, please not again..._ He takes Lara back to bed and decides to give Victor ten minutes. When he doesn’t come in another ten minutes, Yuuri sets down his sated daughter and goes outside to face him.

Victor doesn’t hear him come outside. He’s drenched in sweat, and there’s probably enough wood outside to last them the rest of the year. “V-Victor Nikiforov…”

“Yuuri.”

“Talk to me. Why do you keep doing this? It’s not good for you.”

“I’m sorry, Yuuri. I can’t help it… it’s calming.”

Yuuri lowers the ax for him. “I know you’ve got to be sore. Come back to bed, dear, and we can talk about whatever’s troubling you.”

“You don’t need to know what’s troubling me.”  
  
“Don’t I?” Yuuri took his hands. “Victor, I’m not judging you for anything. I just want to know what’s going on. I can tell you need help, and I want to give it to you. I don't want it to end up like it did last time, I almost didn't' come back then.”

"Why did you?" Victor lets go of the ax and it drops to the ground. He rubs his face and groans softly (he is very sore), and Yuuri takes his hand to lead him back to the house.

"Because my love for you outweighed what we went through. I wasn't sure it would work, but I wanted to keep trying for as long as I could. You weren't yourself, you know. You didn't seem like anybody at all."

"I didn't feel like anyone but a murderer and someone who was—" Victor mouths a word, then looks out at the sunrise. "I can’t stop thinking about him. Well… I _can_ , most of the time he’s not in my mind at all. It’s when he is that I’m…” Victor bows his head. “It’s embarrassing. What he did. What we talked about.”

“I know that he was always very vulgar.”

“He took off my pants because he wanted to see why you stayed with me. And he… he groped my…”

Yuuri gasps, and it makes Victor feel worse. “I’m sorry you had to experience that. I wish I could’ve just taken it for you. I’m used to it.”

Victor gapes at him. “Wha— no, never say something like that! You’ve suffered enough!”

“Victor…”  
  
“Just go back inside. I’ll be in shortly.”

Yuuri obeys, but when he gets back upstairs he watches from the window the entire time. How Victor just stares off for awhile before grabbing an armful of wood and carrying it inside. He listens to Victor’s echoing footsteps downstairs, how he takes such a while to come upstairs again. And when he does, he lays himself in Yuuri’s arms and doesn’t say anything at all.

Yuuri strokes his hair and kisses wherever he can reach, whispering little words of love until Victor’s shoulder starts to shake. Yuuri’s heart aches, listening to his husband cry. But he knows he needs to let this out. It’s been pent up for far too long. “I wish I would’ve just shot him the moment I saw him,” Victor says between sobs. “I wish I wasn’t so _afraid_.”

“Victor, it’s—”  
  
“I just don’t understand _how_ he found us… we lived in the middle of nowhere! It doesn’t make any sense! What did I do wrong to reveal our—”  
  
“Shh… Victor,” Yuuri keeps his voice steady, “who knows how long he followed us, or why he chose that night to try and take me.”  
  
“A-And what if he chose a night that I was gone? Damn it, I was gone so often, Yuuri, wasn’t I? He had so many chances to just _take you_ and I’d never see you again…”

“We’ll never know why. What’s important is that he’s gone now. It’s over, Victor.” Yuuri actually smiles, pressing his cheek against Victor’s head. “It’s over and we never have to worry about him again, where he is or if he’s coming back, we can— we can live our lives without that burden. Thanks to you…”

“I’m so hurt, Yuuri, I’m getting better, but I’m just so fucking hurt. I want to forget.”

Yuuri hums. “Me too, love. And maybe we never will, but… we have a lot of other things to think about now, too.” Victor hugs him close. “Like our beautiful beautiful baby… this lovely house… each other… it's gonna be okay."

***

"Hey, did you see that beautiful muslin dress that person was wearing at the train station yesterday? My daughters went to beg their father for one similar not ten minutes later." The two women are by the river and lugging heavy laundry from the infirmary back to their cart. Both are the same age, the first having several children and lived in Harper's Ferry for all her life. The second came into town not long ago with no backstory or willingness to speak of it. They are good friends, but they don't see each other outside of work and don't know where each other live. 

"I didn't see it," says the second woman, "I think clothes like that are just impractical. What's the use of it? Are there balls to attend in Harper's Ferry?" She hoists the laundry bag onto the cart. "Even when I lived in a nice house on the coast, I never wore anything extravagant, even when my ex husband wanted me to. Because I didn't need it."

"Sometimes it's nice to just dress up, you know? My husband and I travel to bigger cities every now and then just so we can pretend we live a grander life. I enjoy it."

"Well, you have a husband and children, decent income, and a zest for life, so I can see why."

"Oh come on, Lara Karlsson, we aren't so different, you and me." The first woman climbs to the front of the cart. "I'll have to find that dress and have one made for you, just because you're such a stickler about it." 

.

"This is actually really good," Yuuri says between bites at a small diner in the heart of the town. Victor seems to have bought him an entire buffet, and Yuuri's taking careful bites of everything. He wears the white dress from yesterday and hopes he won't spill anything on it. They are seated outside as the weather is pleasant today. After breakfast, Victor is taking him to get fitted for some new, finer clothes, as all his old ones are frayed and worn. "You deserve something new every now and then. Consider this an early birthday gift." Victor had said.

Once Yuuri has gotten his fill of far too many pastries, fresh meat, biscuits, pancakes and yogurt, they leave the diner and find their way to a tailor. Yuuri is measured and gets to pick out fabric for various clothes, and even picks a few things that will be made so his daughter can match him. The man running the shop is a good conversationist and makes sure to compliment Yuuri on his daughter several times, and the woman doing the fitting does as well. "How old is she?" She asks him, beaming at the sleeping infant in Victor's arms. 

"Three weeks." Yuuri says. "And she's done more traveling in these three weeks than I have in three years."

"Really? What, are you running from the law?" She jokes. "My name is Amelia, by the way."

"Yuuri, and my daughter's name is Lara."

"Lara, huh? I know someone named Lara, too. It's a lovely name." Says Amelia, tightening the tape measure around Yuuri's waist. "So tiny!"

"I actually named her after a dear friend of mine, but I haven't seen her in years."

"Why, what happened?" Amelia isn't really listening, Yuuri can tell, but he tells her anyway.  
"I don't really know. She just... she disappeared."

"Mmhm..." Amelia writes something down and goes to find more fabric. "What do you think of this material?"

.

"You have very beautiful family!" Says the owner of the store after Victor has finished paying. "You know, I do not just sell fabric and make clothes. I take photographs too!" 

"Photographs...?"  
  
"I will give discounted price! Please, you will not be disappointed."

And be it that he wanted a photograph himself or Yuuri's excited nodding beside him, Victor agreed. 

So the man takes them down by the river under a tree and positions them in this way: Yuuri's dress flowing out in front of them, he leans against Victor and both hold the baby. Yuuri looks up at the church's steeple, makes a decision, and smiles. "Victor?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"I think I want to live here with you."

"What?"

"I want to live here with you." Yuuri repeats, smile stretching into a full grin. "I like it here. I like the atmosphere and it feels like a good compromise for us. It's not a busy town and we're secluded enough for some privacy. A-and... um...Lara told me she likes it here, too, so..."

Victor laughs softly, sealing the gap between them. "Did she?"

"She did."

The photographer clears his throat behind the camera, but he isn't acknowledged during their second kiss, so he takes the photograph anyway. 

***

"Look at the family my husband photographed today," Amelia says to her coworker during their lunch break that evening. Lara sips her cup of tea and barely glances at it. "It was the muslin white dress wearer! He came into my husband's shop this morning for a fitting. Has the most beautiful baby, and coincidentally, she's named Lara, too!"

Lara looks at the picture again, and nearly drops her cup. " _Oh, mon Dieu_..."

"What is it? That pretty?"

"No! Well, I mean, yes, but!! Where does that family live, Amelia?!" Lara stands and hurries to the coatrack to find her cloak. 

"Well, I don't know, Lara, but my husband does, he got their address for the photographs to be delivered... why? Are you alright?"

And she wasn't. She really wasn't.

.

_June 14th, 1855_

_To Yuuri,_

_I apologize on my lack of correspondence, but I must admit that life has been very hard for me as of late. I regret having to ruin the bliss of your recent nuptials by informing you of my situation, but I figure I should be truthful to you lest you worry about where I have gone. By the way, this is not my own hand, but I have asked Christophe to write this down for me, as one last favor. I won't procrastinate on this any longer, so I'm just going to come out and say it: my daughters are dead. I feel like I have nothing left now, without them, and feel no sense in going on. Christophe and I have ended our marriage, and I am returning to the east. My husband urged me to visit with you one final time to explain my situation, but I'm sorry to tell you that it just pains me too much to deal with anyone right now, which is why I am heading east permanently to live alone. Please do not hate me for what has happened. I know you still need me, but I'm not in a place to be there for you right now. I'm very sorry it has to be this way. I didn't ask for any of this._

_Best of luck to you,_

_Lara Karlsson_

.

"Better now?"

"Better." Yuuri sighs contentedly once his bathrobe is tied and his hair is pulled up to be dried off. The bathtub is... luxurious, he thinks, and he wants to take another bath already. With Victor. Because they can definitely fit together and he's disappointed that they couldn't take one together this time. His feet pad against the cold tile floor of the bathroom back into his bedroom while Victor lingers behind. "Hurry, Victor, she won't be asleep for long." He sprawls across the big bed and waits a few more seconds. "Victor?"

"Coming, love," Victor emerges from the bathroom, and to Yuuri's dismay, is still wearing clothes.  
"What are you doing, Victor? I-I thought you wanted this...?"

"I do."

"Then, come on?"

"Ah, okay..." Victor pulls down his trousers and joins Yuuri. He is not at all aroused, after that sensual moment in the bath? Really? 

Yuuri doesn't really suspect anything since their intimacy yesterday showed no problems, so he decides to help Victor to relax a little. 

.

Lara wanders up the steep hill Amelia's husband directed her to in order to find her old friend. She has a lot to say to him and unsure if now is really the best time. What if he's already in bed? What if he hates her and doesn't want anything to do with her? She helped him through the worst time in his life, got him back on his feet and left not even a day after he married a complete stranger, and not long after that wrote to him that she didn't want to see him again. So yes, he probably does hate her. But still, while she will never heal from the loss of her daughters, she is better now than she was then and feels it only right to check in on him.

At least he seems to be getting along with Victor. She's glad they worked out, because Yuuri deserved that kind of stability in his life.

And while she's happy for him, she can't help but feel bitter at how well his life worked out. Yes, it was painful for him to lose his baby, but he didn't know that baby. He didn't raise it for sixteen years, spend every waking hour with it, teach it to walk and talk and write, give everything he was to it, and then lose double the amount that she did so suddenly. He just didn't. What did she do to deserve such a fate?

She remembers the night her daughters died. _How her older daughter's fever was so high that she writhed about in seizure after seizure while her and her husband tried to keep her restrained until she lie still on her own, dead. And then her second daughter suffering a similar fate, but worse, as she had died while her parents were tending to her sister. And Lara had the audacity to accuse Christophe of being at fault for it, because he wasn't watching her. She knew he was just as busy as she was and regretted it the moment it escaped her lips, but it was too late to take it back, so she went further and blamed him completely for their deaths. "If you hadn't taken us to this godforsaken land they'd be alive!"_

 _But Christophe knew she was wrong and retaliated, not blaming her in the slightest, but instead blaming someone else entirely. "My fault?! Really?! If we had just kicked Yuuri out after his kid died like I wanted to, none of this would've happened! I was hesitant to go to Missouri, but_ you _wanted to see him off! We could've just washed our hands of that_ whore _and been done with it!"_

_"Christophe Giacometti!"_

_The two of them just stare at each other for a long moment, both clearly grief stricken and out of their minds at the horrific tragedy they have just witnessed. And maybe if— no, there's no maybe's. Their marriage was destined to fail. When Christophe said nothing more, she said to him, "I can't believe you can feel that way about someone that you knew I loved. He was like a son to me."_

Lara can hardly see anything on this dark road except for lights in the distance and assumes that must be Yuuri's house. She wipes at her eyes and wishes that she didn't cry every time she thought about her ex husband, especially not at a time like this. She'd be lying if she said she didn't love him still, but there's no use of admitting it anyway. She knows Chris has a new partner— that he  _has_ for years, like he never loved her at all.

She'd give almost anything to have life go back to how it was before, to have her family back.

Anything except passing up on helping Yuuri. He deserved it.

.

_April 1857_

_Lara_ ,

_I'm not writing you to rekindle our relationship. I just thought I should let you know that I saw Yuuri the other day. Apparently, he and Mr. Nikiforov are moving to Nebraska. He acted like he didn't know about what happened to us. Either he assumed we worked things out or the mail service sucks. By the way, he's not even mad at me. Looked like he was pissed with you._

_—_ Chris

.

It would have been easier to grieve for her children if she could blame someone for it, Lara feels. But it isn't and was never possible. Every time she'd tried to feel bitter at him for being the root cause of their situation, she'd think of him after the miscarriage, when she'd come in to check on him and find him weeping, how he really had no one in the world to care for him or help him through it, and how her heart would ache even thinking about it. She couldn't ever be mad at him. Hell, he probably would've come to Missouri on his own if they didn't want to move west anyway. Those weeks that he spent with her— she knew that no matter how cheerful he seemed around her family, that he almost always cried himself to sleep.

He went through hell, just like her, just... her hell was worse. 

She approaches the house and takes a deep breath.  _Do I really want to do this_?

.

 

Yuuri is pissed off.

Why?

Because Victor couldn't get aroused, which— Yuuri's fine with! He's not forcing him to do anything. But when Yuuri suggested an alternative (he just wanted to be held for a little while), Victor bolted. He's outside, cutting wood. Again. He'll be out there all night at this rate. They were fine all day, and there wasn't any cause for Victor to be nervous. Yuuri's afraid that Victor is disgusted with him and there's only so much that he can take before he has to get away. Rationally, he knows that probably isn't true, but, who knows?

After far too long swimming in his thoughts, Yuuri takes his daughter from the nursery and holds her for a while in his bedroom. He looks out the window at Victor cutting the wood and does his best to keep his anger inside.  _What am I doing wrong_?  _How can I help him?_

And then that conversation comes back, when Victor talked about getting his pants removed the night of the murder. Perhaps that isn't all that happened. It makes him sick just thinking about it, but knowing who they were dealing with, it is very possible that the damned man did more than grope his husband. Yuuri's not sure it would be right to downright ask Victor exactly what happened. Victor, after all, waited patiently for years for Yuuri to open up to him about his traumas. So if need be, he'll have to do the same. He opens the window. "Victor!"

"Yes, Yuuri..." He can faintly hear Victor respond. 

"I... I just wanted to say that I love you, okay? And... and Lara loves you too."

"I know, and I love you."

.

 _I never said anything about loving Victor Nikiforov,_ is Lara's initial thought when entering the yard. But then she realizes that Yuuri's actually referring to his own child and that she's intruding on their privacy at the moment. She decides not to come any further into the yard when she notices that Victor holds an ax. She clears her throat, and he flinches, turning to face her. She comes into the dim light of his lantern. "Don't take my head off now, young man..."

"Who are you?" He asks, glancing behind her to make sure she is alone. Yuuri is still watching from the window, eyes wide, like he doesn't recognize her either.   
"You don't remember me, really? I'd assume you'd keep a clear memory in your mind's eye of your own wedding day," She rolls her eyes playfully. "You knew me as Lara Giacometti. I'm here to see Yuuri."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fact: The bridge that Victor and Yuuri crossed in the early part of the chapter was blown up by Confederate soldiers during the Civil War, about eight months after this point in the story. There are remnants of the bridge left to this day, but the railroad company built a second one at a later date. (Harpers Ferry is a cool place to visit. A lot of history and a heck of a view. Not the best place to settle in the 1860s but Victor bby you do you :)
> 
> So I think next time (whenever that is) I will post the second part of the separate murder story, after that will be another chapter of this, and then an epilogue. That's the tentative schedule, subject to change at any time. I just started back at university so we'll see how well I'm able to balance everything out. Thank you all for reading so far. 
> 
> (Also Lara's backstory in this chapter was hard to write (as brief as it was) and my girl deserves the world hnnnggg...)
> 
> See ya next time
> 
> 10/4/18— I’m a week late and I apologize. The next chapter has been difficult to write as I literally wrote two versions of it and I have to merge them. Patience, please, and I’ll have it up this weekend at the latest!


	11. Chapter Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the first time in his life, Yuuri discovers the feeling of hope.

October, 1860 

Harper's Ferry, Virginia 

“Who was that?” Yuuri meets Victor at the bottom step, wearing one of the ridiculous nightgowns he bought that the tailor had on supply and without his glasses, so Victor supposes he didn't see who he was talking to. He looks at the gown for a moment; it’s frilly and lacey and nothing like Yuuri ever wore before, because it isn't practical. It won't keep him warm or anything. “A neighbor?”

“Um, no, it was… someone was lost. They wanted to know the way to another residence.” He removes his thin jacket and stifles a cough. 

“At this hour? That… that’s strange…” Yuuri murmurs. Victor looks at the wall for a long moment, then turns around— just to lock the front door, but he has Yuuri reaching for him anyway as he assumed Victor was going back outside. “Um...so, about tomorrow..”

“Yes?” Victor walks into the parlor, and Yuuri follows hesitantly.

“I’m not really feeling well, and I was wondering if you’d be willing to go alone.”

“To Dover?”

“Yes, and the baby and I would stay here. I- I really need the rest." Noticing Victor's concerned expression, he quickly adds, "Like, physically I’m okay, I guess, I’m just really worn out and need a day or two where I don’t have to get up and go anywhere. Does that make sense?”

“Of course, love. I just don’t know if I am comfortable with leaving you here alone. There’s no food, either.”

“Could you order some on your way out tomorrow, and then have it delivered?”

“Why, I suppose that’s an option. I’ll do it..”

“Okay. I can’t imagine eating much, but I’d like something simple so I won’t have to spend all day cooking.”

“I understand. I’ll see what the choices are. Anything else?”

“You’ll need to keep a good supply of that wood in my bedroom in case it gets cold. And please have your friend come check on me in the late afternoon in case I need anything I guess. I don’t know this place well.”

“I will tell him.” Victor says, “I should be back tomorrow night, the early following morning at the latest. Are you sure—“

“Trust me. I need this. And…” he places his hands on Victor’s arms. “I need you, too. I don’t want you outside all night anymore. You’ll get ill.”

“I know that, but… when I get this way, I…” Victor avoids his eyes until Yuuri touches his cheek to draw him near. “I don’t want to drink anymore, and cutting wood kind of just lets me let out my frustrations, you know?”

“But at this rate you’re going to cut down a forest. Victor,” Yuuri says softly, “there are other ways. Believe me, I know. And I want to help you the same way you have always helped me. Will you let me?”

“I don’t want to burden you over something so minor. Besides, I’m sure it’s unsettling enough hearing about him after all he did to _you_.”

“Admittedly it upsets me. Why wouldn’t it? It doesn’t upset me because I know who he is. It upsets me because you had to experience such a thing.” He hugs him, “you’re so strong, that’s one of the reasons I admire you. You never give up and try your very hardest, but… you are afraid of looking weak. When you need help, you hide from me instead of coming to me because you want me to see you as strong. I don’t need to because I already do. And… and being strong doesn’t always mean hiding your feelings. Sometimes, you have to be strong to even let them out.” The two of them move to sit on the nearby sofa, hands laced together. “Remember when I told you the whole story on our way to Nebraska?”

“How could I forget?”

“Well… telling you that, that was the strongest I’ve ever had to be. And I was a blubbering mess.”

“You’re stronger than anyone I know.”

“Okay Victor, there’s no need to lie.”

.

Yuuri falls asleep on the couch after a while of small talk. He's asleep against Victor's shoulder, of course, which makes it difficult to move. But it can't be comfortable, and so Victor picks him up bridal style and takes him back to the bedroom where their tiny daughter is sleeping just as peacefully. And when he looks at the two of them in this new bed in the home of Yuuri's dreams,  _finally_ , comfortable and safe...

He starts to tear up. 

God can't possibly hate him for what he's done if he's blessed him so heavily with these two.  _You could lose them at any time, you know_ , he hears in  _his_ voice, and bites the inside of his cheek.  _Just like your sister. Just like me._

He gently nudges Yuuri awake, and before he can ask what's wrong, Victor asks, "How do you get it to stop?"

***

_“Late in the season for some thunder, eh?” Emil chats with Victor on the ride up to the house. They are coming home from their trip to Dover and Victor's eager to see Yuuri and the baby again and... probably sleep for a few weeks. He's tired of traveling. Thunder continues to rumble overhead, and the rain pours down so heavily that it is nearly bending the umbrella. “It wasn’t rainin’ when I came by earlier. Came out of nowhere.”_

_Victor chuckles. “Well, I only wish we could’ve gotten this kind of rain in Nebraska.”_  
  
_“Me too,” Yura adds. "So we could've swam more in the summer."_

_They continue their smalltalk, but when Victor approaches the house, he can already tell something is wrong. Firstly, because the front door is wide open, despite the storm. And secondly, because he can hear the baby crying, like she’s unattended. Victor’s blood runs cold as he sprints towards the house. He doesn’t even look around, he just follows her voice up to the nursery._

_And there’s—. Holding her. He looks just like he did as a dead man; gaping hole in his chest, bruised, ghostly pale. Smiling._

_Victor’s about to shout, and — hisses, “Shh, shh! You’re gonna upset her mo~re.” he pats the butt of his dagger against her head. “Poor, poor, poor thing. She just needs a walk, I think.”_

_“Put her down…” Victor reaches for her, and — backs away. “Ah-ah. Walk first."_

_They walk down by the river, Victor begging the entire way. But — is always one step ahead and won't listen to a word he says. He keeps whispering to the baby, occasionally glancing back at Victor as if he's just told her a terrible secret. Blood pools from his lips onto her clothes, but if he notices, he says nothing. He distinctly hears the words:_ murderer _and_ hanging _, but tries not to hear the rest._

_And suddenly they stand on the railroad bridge. “Ultimatums are fun. It’s a great way to get to know a person.” He grins. “If you had to choose between saving your darling Yuuri and this little rat, which one would you choose?”_

_Victor's eyes widen and he tenses, because he knows this man is serious. “D-Don’t make me do this, —.”_

_“I am. Which would you choose?”_  
  
_Victor looks around frantically. “Where’s Yuuri?”_

_“Tied to the railtrack about three hundred feet from us. And we’ve got a 5:15 arrival that should be here any time now. So you may want to make a decision soon.”_

_There is no right decision, he knows this._

_“If you choose the baby, you'd need a nursemaid or something. You'd really have to step up as a parent. Be nagged for a decade or two and constantly be reminded of who you let get squished by a locomotive. Or maybe_ _I’d take Yuuri and make a dozen babies til he's is so worn out that it sags to his fuckin’ knees. But! I_ _f you choose Yuuri, I might not even kill her. I could keep her as my own. Cause she probably is. Or maybe I'll just...” he smirks, glancing down at the choppy waters of the river, “Hopefully there aren’t any sharp rocks at the bottom of this river, cause that’d really hurt. Does she know how to swim?”_

_Victor sobs. He can't even think straight._

“5...4...3…”  
  
_“I can’t. I can’t do this. Just… give me the baby.” Victor hears the train's distant horn and squeezes his eyes shut for a brief moment before opening them. "Give me the baby!"_  
  
_“The baby? What baby?” — tilts his head to the side._

_— isn't holding the baby. He's not holding the—_

_Victor hears a splash._

_The train rumbles by and he can hear Yuuri's screams..._

_Victor jumps off the bridge without another thought._

_It is dark, and he cannot find her under the water._

_The rocks are sharp._

***

“ _Ahh! Lara, Lara!!!!_ ”

Yuuri’s startled when he’s suddenly pushed out of bed by a frantic, freshly awoken Victor.

Victor pants, wiping the sweat from his face, and Yuuri rises up from the floor, rubbing his bruised elbow. “Are you alright, dear?”  
  
“Where’s-”  
  
“She’s still asleep. What happened?” Yuuri crawls back into bed, ignoring the sharp pain in his arm. 

“I need to go outside… I—“ he notices Yuuri rubbing his elbow. “Did I hurt you?”

“It’s fine, it’s just a bruise.” Yuuri chuckles, but he’s still rubbing his elbow. “Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve fallen out of bed.”

“I’m sorry. I just had the most terrible of dreams. Ah… the English word for it is a… dilemma, I think it’s called. It was a really bad dilemma.”

“Well, don’t go outside. Talk to me.”

Victor sighs. “Give me a moment. I’m going to go get some water.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“Yuuri, it’s just—“

“What, you think I’m foolish enough to let you go outside? You don’t _need_ to, you _need_ to talk to me before you catch pneumonia and—“

“Please let me.” Victor says lowly. “I won’t be long. Dreams don’t take as long to forget.”

Yuuri scowls at him. “If you leave this room,” he is desperate, and very tired, and, “then I leave this house.”

Things are quiet for a few moments.

“I see.”

“Do I disgust you now? Because you can’t stop imagining me being unfaithful, despite my best efforts? Victor, why would I ever choose him over you? He brought me nothing but pain and suffering.”

“That’s not it. That’s not it at all.” He sighs, taking off his drenched night shirt. “I think you fail to comprehend that I _killed_ someone, Yuuri. I shot him and I watched him die. It doesn’t matter if he was evil or what he did. Having to see someone’s life end because of my own actions it… well, for lack of better words, fucked me up.”

Yuuri nods slowly. “I- I know it has. But why are you taking it out on me?”

“Why do you _think_ every emotion I feel is because of _you_?”

“That’s just how I am! I’m sorry that I can’t help but think otherwise when I was informed that you looked  _happier than you'd been in years_ while away from me this summer!"

Victor groans softly. “You make things difficult for yourself.”

“So it seems.” Yuuri shrugs. “Nothing I do seems to make anything better, and you won’t let me help you. I guess you want to be alone.”

“I don’t want to be alone. Sometimes I need to be.”

Yuuri could no longer control his temper, and tossed his pillow at him. “Then go be alone on the _couch_!”

.

Victor thinks about how strange it is to wake up in the morning now with a new addition to their life. He can't just get out of bed, he must be quiet and careful so as not to disturb the sleeping newborn between them. Sometimes she's awake when he is, chewing on her fist or staring at him curiously. Or crying. She does a lot of that.

This morning, she's just looking at him, hiccuping every now and then. He wonders what is so fascinating about him to occupy all of her limited attention. 

His mother has a picture of him as an infant. It was taken when they visited Moscow for his christening. Everyone had serious faces in the photo, (it did take quite a while to take it) but he was awake when it was taken, and he thinks he looks similar to Lara. Yuuri says babies change their appearance a lot in their first few months, so he can't get his hopes up or anything. He guesses his biggest concern is that she will never look a thing like him at all, which is really petty. But she already favors Yuuri in most of her features, and  _he_ chose the name, and she likes  _him_ better, and...

He just wants something.

Is that silly of him? It's his first child. It's not like if they have more that none of them will like him or look like him. He's just overreacting. Jumping to conclusions. Or something like that. 

Victor slips out of bed and lifts her with him, her head against his shoulder as always. She's warm. "Do you like it here,  _moya lyubov_? I hope you are comfortable here. That I've made the right choice."  
  
She makes a small noise, then yawns, and that's about all he gets out of her. 

"I'm tired too. But I can't sleep. I have to leave you soon, but not as long as last time, so you don't have to miss me." He rests his cheek against her head and sighed. "Which is why I wish you could come with me. But I understand why Yuuri needs to stay with you. Ah, I guess I shouldn't call him Yuuri around you, but I don't know what he would like to be referred to as." He kisses her hair. "But I'll still miss you. You're one of the most wonderful things that has ever happened to me. I just wish I could've known you before you were born. I guess that doesn't matter now, since I know you now, which is better than never knowing you at all. You make me so glad I'm still here, _Lara_."

He doesn't talk much after that, but he takes her back to the nursery so that Yuuri can sleep in peace.

He needs it.

But when Yuuri wakes to an empty bed, he temporarily panics. Okay, he won't say it aloud, but Victor's... lack of stability is still scaring him. For while he wants to trust him, a small part of him fears that Victor will snap and... oh, he doesn't even want to think about it. He can only pray it doesn't happen.

Fortunately, Victor's just in the bath, and the baby's safe and unharmed in her crib.

Yuuri just doesn't know what to do.

Things are better, obviously. But there's some things that have yet to change, and Yuuri doubts they ever will.  _I love my husband, I do_ , Yuuri said in a letter to a friend that month,  _but sometimes I wonder how much longer I can live like this without losing myself, too._

.

  
  
***

Victor’s probably balls deep in a whole mess when he comes back to Dover empty handed. He sleeps for the entire ride, and then sleeps again just on the brief ride to Yuuri's parents' house. He's incredibly drowsy when approaching the house. Mari is the one that answers the door, and the moment she sees him alone, she aptly freaks out. “Mom, I was right! He did it! He killed Yuuri!!!”

Which causes complete and utter chaos. Victor gets interrogated by three different people while someone screeches about getting the authorities, until he just has to snap and shout: “YUURI IS NOT DEAD!” Which manages to shut them up for a few moments, long enough for him to start to explain, “Yuuri is in Virginia. He told me to come here alone as he would like to get some rest with the baby. I’m merely here to collect my son and be on my way.”

“How do we know you’re telling the truth, though?” Mari says, skeptical expression influencing the rest of them.

Victor opens his travel bag and passes her one of the photographs that were taken. “You’ll have to learn to trust me. I have absolutely zero ill intentions with Yuuri. When we got here, we were going through a bit of a rough patch, but I can assure you that’s all been resolved. Needless to say, Mr. and Mrs. Katsuki, Mrs… whatever your last name is,” Victor continues, “There is much that you three don’t know about our situation. I think your first impression of me is so unpleasant because of this. So I would like to start over.”

“Fair enough.” Mari says flatly. “All I know about you is that you are hardly around.”

“Believe me, there’s much more to me than that.”

“And I’m sure we have the time to learn all about you, while we wait for your son to return.”  
  
“Huh?”  
  
“I assumed you knew. His paternal grandmother came by yesterday morning, about two hours after you left for Virginia. She asked to have him for the day, as it had been previously discussed.”

“And you just… let her.”  
  
“She had proof. Who was I to keep him from her?”

Victor is about to lecture Yuuri’s sister on the million reasons why she just can’t allow any random person claiming to be a relative to take his son, but soon his attention shifts to a coach pulling to a halt in front of the house. Yura is returning, easing his worries.

And does he look different. His hair is cut short, he has bangs— long, and covering his eyebrows. He suddenly looks like a nine year old, and not the little toddler he’d adopted five years ago. And most importantly, he looks very, very happy. Clad in a casual suit, holding onto a brand new suitcase and his grandmother’s hand, he _beams_ . “You’re back already?” He calls to Victor, who is flabbergasted and lacking any comprehensible words. “ _Babushka_ said you wouldn’t be back for a while. Where’s Yuuri?”

 _Oh, he’s Yuuri now_? “He’s still there,” Victor walks down the front steps and extends a hand to Yura’s grandmother. “You must be Mrs. Plisetsky. I don’t believe we ever met properly. I’m—”  
  
“I know who you are.” She says a bit stiffly, rejecting his handshake. “You’re the _capable_ guardian my son left Yuri to. Victor Nikiforov,” She pushes up her glasses. “I don’t believe that’s the case.”

“I beg your pardon?”  
  
“Beg away.” She frowns. “My grandson has told me all about his, eh… adventures, if you will, with your family. From being repeatedly uprooted, forced to do difficult manual labor, caring for a heavily pregnant and _sick_ person all alone, breaking his arm when a cheap train derailed in the dead of winter, losing his home to a storm, being forced to travel on foot from Missouri to Nebraska, living on the ground in a store for a winter, and being victim to your alcoholism—”  
  
“What the—”  
  
“Do you really expect me to believe that you _are_ capable?” She reaches into her purse and retrieves a document. “ _Should I reach death before the adulthood of my heir, and should he be well and fitting to manage the affairs of my monetary estate and healthy upbringing of Yuri Josefovich Plisetsky, Victor Nikiforov will become his guardian by default._ ”  
  
“Your point is?” Victor’s heart is hammering in his chest as he looks from the old woman to his _son_ , who looks so very happy with what is about to happen. _I love you, kid. I’ve raised you. What did I do to deserve this?_

“ _Should he be well and fitting… healthy upbringing—_ you have failed on all of these aspects, Mr. Nikiforov. Therefore, as I am next of kin, I must demand immediate custody and rights to this child. Deny me and there will be a legal battle that you will lose, along with thousands of dollars that I know you do not have.”  
  
“Mrs. Plisetsky— I— things are _different_ now. My husband and I are more than capable of bringing up this child, as we _have_ for the past five years. We had no intention of subjecting him to any of the struggles we endured, but that’s just life. But we’ve just decided to purchase a home in Virginia—”  
  
“Who cares what you’ve decided? This child has been damaged enough. He has expressed to me that he wishes to reside in Baltimore with me and his _real_ family. Again, I must insist on this.”

Victor turns from the woman and gets on a knee in front of his son. “ _Yura_ . Is this really what you want?”  
  
“There’s so much to do in Baltimore, parks, theaters, restaurants. And a really, really big school! _Babushka_ says that I could go to a big university and become a doctor! Yuuri always wanted me to—”  
  
“You’re going to break his heart if you leave.”

Yura’s smile fades instantly, and his grandmother intervenes. “How dare you try to guilt this child into siding with you.”

“Can he have a moment with his kid without you hovering, woman?” Mari calls from behind Victor. “And I’m going to have a word with _you_.”

“Excuse me?”

“Who do you think you are, coming into this boy’s life now to take him from the only family he’s had? Where were _you_ when his father died, fighting for custody!? You _weren’t_ there, not _one person_ fought for him! If you cared so much, where were you?!”

“Don’t yell at my _Babushka_ ,” says Yura, voice strained. He’s conflicted. He wants to be with his grandma, but not forever! Up until now he fully intended on visiting with his adopted parents quite frequently like… every other day? Maybe every day? Or even more? But now everyone’s making it seem like that’s not possible.

“If you go with your Ba _bitch_ ka, she will never let you see your parents again. You do understand that?”

“Let’s _go_ , Yuri. We don’t need to associate with these people.”

“I don’t know.” He said stiffly. “I need to decide.”

“Why don’t you take him to court? Yuri will be with him until then, as Victor is his legal guardian. You can’t take him against his will. You have zero rights to him unless determined by a judge.”

“Is that so? And how would you know that?” The old woman raises her voice, seizing Yura by the arm. “You _don’t_! I have the best lawyer in the state of Maryland, and I can assure you that he would—" 

“I share my office with a lawyer." Yuuri's dad finally says, "I can assure _you_ , he can take that boy back to Virginia with him."

***

“How’s my princess?” Victor coos, completely abandoning the presence of his son to drool over the baby the moment they walk through the front door, _as usual_ . And Yuuri’s all blushy and happy, eyes shining as he watches Victor dote over the little trouble maker. It makes him firmly believe that they’d be fine without him. “Did you miss me, _kotenok_ _?_ Did you miss Daddy?”  
  
At this, the infant actually smiles, which leaves her parents practically shrieking in delight over the newest development and it leaves a sour taste in his mouth. _Whatever. I can get tons more attention in Baltimore._

The house is pretty nice, he’ll admit, as he wanders through the various rooms, he thinks this wouldn’t be half bad to call home. It _would_ be fine, if this stupid baby wasn’t here to hog all the attention. _How is her moving a muscle in her face or making a noise, not even an intelligible one, seen as exciting?_ He wonders as he hears Yuuri deliver the girl praise in the other room. It’s not like he cares, of course. She’s just a stupid baby. He told his _babushka_ about the baby, mentioning her as his sister. She told him that she is not his sister. He’s not sure how he feels about that. Whether she is or isn’t and all that…

“Call her _Lara_ ,” He hears Yuuri correct Victor in the hallway. “You may call her _Larisa_ when I'm not around _._ And that’s that on that.”

“Is that so?”  
  
“Yes, that’s so, and if we ever have a second child, you may name them and I won’t say a word on it. But I chose this name and I get to choose what she is referred to as.”

“No fair,” Victor murmurs, and he hears the two of them kiss right outside his door. He gags.

“I’m going to go make sure he’s in bed. Wait up for me?”  
  
_I’m definitely going to go live with Babushka._  
  
His door swings open, and in comes Yuuri. He whispers something about wanting to kill Mrs. Plisetsky for cutting off his beautiful hair, but that’s only because he thinks he’s asleep. He sits on the side of the bed and waits there for a minute, like he’s testing to see if Yura’s really asleep. And then he starts to speak. “Victor told me what happened with your grandma.”  
  
He tenses.

“I know you want to know her, because you want to know about your real family, and- and I don’t blame you for that. You deserve to know them. You _should_ , regardless of what Victor thinks. The problem with you living with her is this: she will not let you see us again, and I’m assuming that includes writing. But if that’s okay with you, then… well, that definitely makes me sad, but I understand.”

He does his best to be as quiet as possible. He isn’t ready to talk about it. And this is far too big a decision for someone his age to make.

“Ah, I guess you’re tired. I’ll let you get some sleep.” He leans in and kisses his cheek. “I love you, Yura. Don’t forget that.”

.

The following afternoon, Yuuri decides to leave Victor home with the baby (since he’s already explored the town on his own), and takes Yura to do a bit of exploring themselves.

The weather is still quite cold, so the two of them bundle up and walk down the path into the main part of town. Yura is quiet, but his eyes are fascinated. “That must be the school there,” Yuuri points once they are considerably closer to the main drag. “I wonder if it is too late to enroll—”  
  
“Victor said we’re just staying for the winter.”

“I know.” Yuuri says calmly. “That doesn’t mean you need to get a year behind in your studies. Why don’t we just take a peek inside?”  
  
“ _Nooo_ ,” Yura whines the moment Yuuri opens the gate of the schoolhouse, but he goes mum after that. They come inside and find a small room with a front desk, like the big schools in Delaware had. Yuuri imagines, though, that the rest of the school is only one room. The secretary is friendly enough and tells Yuuri that children from grades seven through twelfth are taught upstairs, the rest downstairs. She asks Yura his age, and out of shyness and spite (a majority of that being spite) he refuses to answer. Yuuri rolls his eyes and tells her that he is nine and incredibly stubborn, and that they weren’t sure whether or not he should enroll.

They leave about ten minutes later, Yuuri setting some paperwork into his satchel and Yura’s attitude sinking to an impossible low. “It’ll be good for you to get out of the house over the winter.”

“I don’t want to.”  
  
“You haven’t even tried it yet.”

“If I start going here you’re gonna think I’m okay with moving here. If I had to move somewhere, why would I choose here? I’ve got a grandma in Baltimore and other relatives. It makes no sense for me.”

“Yuri Plisetsky,” Yuuri sighs. “Right now, Victor and I are just trying to figure some things out.”  
  
“That means you’re not going to listen to me.”

“You’re nine years old. I will listen to your opinion, but that’s not going to influence me into not sending you to school at all.”

Yura shoots him a dirty look. “I won’t go to that school, and you can’t make me.”

“Oh, I can’t? You’re going. Come on, I’ve even arranged for you to meet your teacher this afternoon.”

“When did _that_ happen?!”  
  
“About ten minutes ago? The secretary, Miss Lucy, she said—”  
  
“Ugh, whatever. Let’s just go.”

.

At promptly two-fifteen, after the last of classes had ended, Yuuri took his unwilling son back into the schoolhouse. They sat in the small office until the classroom had cleared, and then were invited inside.

The teacher is an older woman, busy erasing her chalkboard, and she somehow notices them enter the classroom without making a sound. “Plisetsky?” She guesses without looking behind her. She wears a bonnet, so it is hard to see what she looks like. There is a plaque on her desk that says Ms. Karlsson. Yuuri guesses she is middle aged. 

“Yes. Well, he’s Plisetsky, I’m- I’m not.” Yuuri sat down at one of the desks and gives Yura a look to do the same.

“No?” She stoops to gather the last of her things. “But you are the legal guardian?”  
  
“Yes, that’s right. Sorry, I’m sure I’m making things confusing.”

“You must be his…” She stands, facing the two of them for the first time, “Yuuri…”

Yura looks between the two of them and wonders why the woman has the same name as his little sister.

“What are you doing here, _mon cher garçon_ ?” She steps forward, and the two of them just stare at each other for a moment. “Y-You’re supposed to be in _Missouri_ , why are you—"  
  
"Change of scenery?" Yuuri laughs and hugs her tight the second she offers him a hug. “Where’ve you been, Lara…” 

“Here, there, everywhere, you know,” She smiles through her tears and cups Yuuri’s cheeks. “You’ve grown so much, I hardly recognized you.” She doesn't mention seeing him in the photo. If she did, he'd ask why she didn't visit sooner. None of that matters now.

“How have you been, Lara?” Yuuri asks softly. She knows he knows about the twins, about how hard her life must’ve been. And she doesn’t want to talk about it.

“Don’t worry about me,” She says, dabbing at her eyes with a kerchief. “What about you two? What brings you here?”  
  
“A baby…” Yuuri can’t help but beam. “Victor and I have just had a daughter. Um, I- _we_ … named her after you.” 

“Oh _Yuuri…_ ”

Yura decides to take this chance to attempt and sneak out of the classroom, but Yuuri reaches out and grabs his arm. “It was the least I could do. You did so much for me..”

“Can we go now?” Yura mumbles, eyes dark.

“Yuri Plisetsky…” Yuuri warns.

Lara turns her attention to him. “You’ve grown too! My, you were only three or four when we met and goodness how you’ve grown…” she extends a hand. “I don’t know if you remember me, but my name is Lara Karlsson. I teach at this school and I’d like to teach you as well, if you’ll let me.”

Yura shrugs. “I’m probably already smarter than anyone else my age. So it will just be a waste of time.”  
  
“Want to bet on that, young man? Why don’t you come in tomorrow morning at eight fifteen and we can see on that?”

“Fine.” His mouth twists into a smile. “Maybe just tomorrow.”

“We shall see.” She smiles. “Now, Yuuri Katsuki,” She says, “I’m going to have to leave now. Where are you living now? Perhaps I’ll walk you home to catch a glimpse at the little one. What’s her full name, anyway?” She nods to the secretary when they exit the schoolhouse.

“Larisa Camille.” Yuuri says proudly.

“Beautiful. Fortunately, my full name is just Lara Karlsson. So I will just call her by her beautiful full name.”

On the walk up to the house, Lara points out a plain brown building that’s a bit run down. “I have an apartment on the upper floor. It’s not too bad for rent, though I was looking into renting a room at your house, actually. I take it’s not for rent now, though.”  
  
“We haven’t decided if we’re staying. We live in Nebraska, now.”

“Mm. I thought you were living in Independence.”  
  
“We were, for two years, but a storm damaged the house and well, I needed a change of scenery.” 

“I can’t blame you.”

When they approach the house, Lara is eager to come inside to see the baby. Fortunately, Victor is in the parlor with her, and both are sound asleep. “Aw…” Yuuri brushed a hair away from the baby’s cheek. “So this is Lara…”  
  
“How old is she?”

“Almost a month old.”  
  
“Yuuri Katsuki, you shouldn’t be up walking around then!”

“I’m fine, Lara,” Yuuri blushes.

“No way. After I had my twins, I—“ her face darkens, but she continues, “I was in bed for weeks.” 

“I rested for a few days, but I was sick in the weeks before and had sores from laying too long. So, yeah, I was eager to get out of bed.”

“Still. Your health.” She does not come close to the baby. Yuuri wonders why.

“Believe me, I’m fine—“

“You’d be surprised at how fast things can take turns for the worst. Start taking care of yourself, Yuuri.”

.

Yuuri has much he needs to tell Lara. It's like taking the heavy weights from his shoulders and passing them onto someone else. He doesn't care if it's right to tell Lara  _everything_ , but he does. He details the entire five years they were apart, including the murder of the terrible, terrible...

Lara appears distressed during Yuuri's story of the murder, but she says nothing until Yuuri finishes with, “And I just want to do whatever I can to fix him, so that we can be happy again.”

“You can’t.”

“What…?”

“You can’t fix a person. You can’t change who they are.”

“B-But—“

“Want to know a secret? Christophe was strictly homosexual.”

“I… I kind of thought so…”

“Well, I didn’t know it was strictly so when I first met him. I mean, I should have known, being that he was originally marrying my brother. They already had the tickets. You see, Christophe came to America two years before I did. He sent a letter home to Switzerland a year later, searching for someone to marry. My brother responded. He grew up with Chris and loved him already. They corresponded for some months, with me being the middleman since my brother was illiterate. And then, about six months before he was to leave for America, my brother passed away. He had many, eh… infections. He was not pure like many want your kind to be. Do you know what I mean?”

“Yeah.”

“So I wrote to Christophe myself, told him the news. I asked if I could take my brother’s place because I really wanted to go to America. Looking back, that was selfish of me, but.. I was desperate for a change of scenery. Women aren’t treated well back home.”

“Christophe said I could, though he admitted it may be awkward because he didn’t really know me. But I knew him. I fell in love with him through his letters, I read them as if they were for me instead. I was foolish.

“My parents were angry about me leaving but I went and I never came back. I married Christophe and immediately noticed his discomfort with me. It was a few days after our twins were born that he confessed his sexuality, and we agreed that we’d coparent, but there’d be nothing between us.”

“But nevertheless, I was stubborn and heartbroken. I thought I could change him. Make him love me the way I loved him. I spent far too many years trying to do that, Yuuri. But you can’t change people. I know… I know you want to help Victor, as you should, but… what can you do to ease his mind? You aren’t him. The only person who can fix Victor… is Victor. A-and even so, some things cannot be fixed. Do you understand that?”

“I don’t want to understand it. I just want him to be better.”

“That’s how you’ve always been… a servant’s heart.”

Yuuri smiles. “What do you think I should do? Leave, or… stay?”

“I can’t make that decision for you, dear. But if you can’t think about yourself personally, what do you think… this little girl here, needs?”

Yuuri looks down at the baby. “She needs him. So do I.”

“Well, there you go.” She smiles. “That doesn’t mean you have to stay married, of course, if things really are terrible all the time—” 

“They’re not.”

“And if his nightmares bother you, perhaps you could sleep in another room? I’m sure you can work things out, unless of course, he gets _worse_ , and you _do_ seem quite miserable…”

.

Lara makes him lunch in the large kitchen, and Yuuri waits in the nearby dining room, running his fingers across the polished wood of the table Victor made himself, admiring his handiwork. _There’s another career for you, darling. You could be a carpenter._

Lara sits by him at the table while he eats a horse’s share and simply watches him without eating anything herself. She doesn’t say much, really. Yuuri wonders how long she’ll be here.

“Victor isn’t sure what the baby should call him.” Yuuri says between bites, “and it’s the same for me. What do you think?”

“You look like a… you know, I actually can't guess. I suppose it's up to you.”

“I figured as much. I want to let her choose, but at the same time, I guess I can’t.”

“My girls called me _Maman,_ ” Lara says, “They were named after my sister and Christophe’s sister. I can’t believe that they would be twenty one now. It makes me feel really old.”

“I can’t begin to imagine how much you miss them, Lara. And… I’m sorry. For what I did.”

“For what you did? What do you mean, Yuuri?” 

Yuuri looks away. “Well, I’m the reason they’re gone, of course. They wouldn’t have gotten sick if you stayed in Maryland. It’s my fault that you came west. You wanted to see me off, and…”

“Oh, _Yuuri_ ,” She touches his cheek and makes him look at her. “Is that really what you think?”

“I’m not the only one that thinks that.” Yuuri mumbles. “Chris does, too. And if _Chris_ does, why shouldn’t I think that?”

“Chris was wrong. I was wrong. You know, right after they died, we were just… I can’t even think of the word for it. But it is easy to want to blame someone else. Their deaths weren’t anyone’s fault. I mean, we _wanted_ to move west, long before we met you. You just made us come two weeks or so earlier than we originally planned, that’s all. It was our choice not to wait. I’m sorry if Chris told you it was your fault. You didn’t deserve to hear that.”

Yuuri nods, but deep down his mind can’t be changed on him causing the series of unfortunate events in their (and even Victor’s) lives. “Sometimes I wonder how much easier everyone’s lives would’ve been if I had just… stayed with my first child’s father, did what he wanted. Or, better yet, died. It’s a terrible thought I think of often. Looking at the misery I indirectly or directly caused confirms this.”

“Yuuri—”

“If I had gone with him, Victor wouldn’t have had to kill him. He wouldn’t wake in terror every night from nightmares. Your daughters would be alive.” 

“But yours wouldn’t be. You cannot continue to dwell on the past, Yuuri, you must move forward as I have done… as hard as it is, it’s the only way to stay alive.”

.

After the dishes have been washed, Lara draws a bath for Yuuri (and then, the baby, once she determines her old enough to take a real bath). She goes down to the tailor to see if any clothes are ready and comes back with a very loose and comfortable nightgown (a contrast from the lacey affair Yuuri wore the night before). She changes the sheets on the bed as they have been stained from the baby, and makes the bed. Yuuri wishes he could pay her. As always, doing much more for him than he could ever do for her.

Once him and his daughter are out of the bath and dressed, Yuuri’s ushered into bed and urged to get some rest while the baby’s tired. “You need to take advantage of her sleep patterns. Sleep when she sleeps. Otherwise you will not sleep at all. So,” She drapes the sheets over him and the baby on his chest, “I will be back to cook you supper, never mind what Victor says. I don’t want to catch you out of bed until then. Oh— does she have any difficulty with nursing? When’s the last time you fed her?”

“Um… a few hours ago, I guess…?”

“Might as well feed her again so that she will sleep longer. You’ll thank me later.”

.

Victor comes upstairs late that evening. Whether or not he knew Lara was in the house is unknown, as it seemed that he slept most of the day or was out. Yuuri can tell it is him because of his footsteps coming up the stairs and his voice when he tells Yura goodnight. The baby’s up and nursing, but she turns her head when she hears Victor’s voice. “Remember him? That big, noisy guy with the scratchy beard. I wish he’d shave it.”

“What was that?” Victor has his hand on the doorknob, and Yuuri startles, guilty. “Um… _Lara_ said she wants you to shave because it’s too prickly when you kiss her.”

“That so?” He stoops by the bed to kiss Yuuri. “Well, we can’t have that.”

Yuuri kisses him again for good measure, but his thought remained. He closed his eyes.

“How was your day, Yuuri?”

“Hm?” He opens his eyes to see Victor’s still there, “Oh, fine, I guess? I stayed in bed all day.”

“Did you eat? Emil said he’d come over with better food than I could cook. Why, if he didn’t, I’ll—”

“Sh.” Yuuri presses a finger to his lips. “He didn’t have to. I had someone else to take care of me today. Where were you this afternoon?"

“I went a town over to see about ordering some more furniture. Since you were asleep, I didn't feel like I should bother you. And...someone… else?”

“Don’t worry about it, it was just,” Yuuri is unable to hide his smile any longer, “Lara Giacometti— er, whatever her maiden name is, came over to visit me and the baby! She said she stopped by a few nights ago, but thought it’d be better to visit in the morning.” 

“ _Really_ … I bet you were really happy to finally see her.” Victor is being… strangely attentive all of the sudden, but Yuuri’s going to enjoy it while it lasts. “I know how long you wanted to see her for. How is she?”

“She’s… okay, I think. She gets by. And I think she was eager for someone to take care of. She hardly let me out of bed today. I was thankful for the rest.”

“You certainly needed it,” Victor runs his fingers through Yuuri’s hair. “I’m going to go take a bath.” 

“Why, at this hour?”

Victor gives him a crooked smile. “You said the baby wants me to shave.”

“I’ll be there in two minutes.”

.

“Would it be a sin to bathe like this every day?” Yuuri tips his head back so that he touches Victor’s and sighs. This is… really nice. It’s something he’s wanted to do for… forever, obviously. A luxury that they could never afford… and still can’t, but he’s going to enjoy it and not think about money or trouble. Right now, it’s just him and Victor pressed against each other in this large, porcelain tub’s warm waters.

“For a slice of heaven like this? No. I could do this three times a day.” Victor rubs his shoulders, laying kisses wherever he can reach. Still prickly. Yuuri makes a face. “What? I’m gonna shave after we’re done!”

“I can’t wait. Eh, I mean, _Lara_ can’t wait.”

“Because she told you?”

“She tells me everything.”

“Does she tell you that you’re already a fantastic parent? That she’s so lucky to have you?”

“N-No, she hasn’t.”

“Well, she told me that earlier while you were gone."

Yuuri blushes, sinking himself deeper into the water. 

***

It is early November when the drama of their lives continues. A full month after moving to Virginia; things have been easy going up until now. Yuuri knew it was only a matter of time, anyway. Yuuri was sitting in the parlor, finishing up a response to his sister’s most recent letter. They were confirming the details for Christmas, and Yuuri had asked that she arrive on December 23rd. It’s possible she will leave directly after Christmas, but Yuuri’s parents expressed the want to stay into the new year, which is more than fine to him.

But anyway, back to the point. Yuuri sealed his letter with a smile and moved to fill out the information on the back. His daughter is asleep in a bassinet beside him, and Yuuri distracts himself just by looking at her. Today, she is matching Yuuri in a red and white stripes, her hair coming in again just as brown as before.

His attention is shifted from her to a sharp knock on the door. “Ah! Maybe that’s the postman.”

It is not, in fact, the postman, but rather a big, burly man who has a stern voice and demands to know if Victor Nikiforov is home, and Yuuri’s heart sinks because he thinks that surely the body of — must have been found— but when Yuuri says he’s not home, the man rolls his eyes and asks Yuuri to sign a form, then passes him an envelope. He decides to open it.

Inside details a lawsuit from Mrs. Plisetsky, with a court case set for November 29th. She wants her grandson. 

***

“Not the best way to spend my twenty-sixth birthday, but I’ll manage,” Yuuri wakes up to a train rumbling by their hotel room, a rat scurrying across the ground, and the beautiful scenery of a brick wall outside his window. He is in Baltimore for the court case.

“It’s the best I could do.” Victor snakes his arms around Yuuri and presses kisses to his neck and ear. “If you’re twenty six, that means I’m turning…”

“Old,” Yuuri finishes for him, “and I’m going to make this birthday of yours the best you’ve ever had.”  
  
“You gave me a daughter. How much better can it get?”

“You just wait and see, Victor.”

.

The courthouse towers before the two of them, but Yuuri can be a bit relieved knowing he won’t have to go in himself; he and Yura are staying outside. But he can still feel nervous. The two of them sat on the steps of the courthouse with ice cream cones, Yura content with his life and not at all concerned with the issue at hand. Though, it may be because he’s very good at hiding it. “Victor says the baby looks like you most.” Yura says randomly. “But I think she looks like a potato. _Babushka_ showed me a picture of when I was a baby. With my mom.”

“Did she let you keep the picture?”

“Mm… no. She said I could keep it when I live with her. _If_ , I mean.” He continues, “um, I looked like her. She had blonde hair like me, and they said she had green eyes, too. Her name was Lily.”

Yuuri watches him carefully.

“She was twenty-three when I was born. Her last name was Carter. Her parents live in Ohio, and she has two younger brothers named Edwin and Lucas, and a sister named Violet. I-I didn’t get to meet them. My grandmother said that she doesn’t talk to them.”

“Would you want to meet them?”

He nods quickly. “Yeah, but…”

“But?”  
  
“Come here, Yuri, you shouldn't be sitting with him.” The grandmother comes outside, clutching papers, her lawyer walking beside her and talking quickly to her.

Yuuri tries to stay strong. He smiles, even, though his lips tremble. “I guess a decision has been made. A-Are you happy, Yura? I’ll go gather your—”

Yura hugs him fiercely, and Yuuri’s heart lurches as he holds him just as tight. “Come see us for Christmas, maybe?”

“Unhand him. You have not received the right to—”

“The case is still open.” Mrs. Plisetsky’s lawyer said. “We’re just taking a break. There’s a lot to look over.”

“Can I ask for something?” Yuuri says softly, not waiting for permission to continue, “can you… please… persuade Mrs. Plisetsky to allow us some sort of visitation? Just… I raised him, and I can’t bear to be without him. And I don’t think it’d be good for him, either.”

“I can’t represent you, Mr…”

“Nikiforov, I’m one of Yuri’s guardians. I look after Yuri when Victor is not around.”

“So why aren’t you in the courtroom?”

“Because someone needed to stay with him. I can’t imagine it being practical to leave a nine-year old outside alone. Yura likes to wander, besides.” He pats the boy’s hair, who still hasn’t let go of him. “Where we lived before, we had a very large property. He took joy in being able to roam, within fenced boundaries, of course. He likes to explore. Sometimes I’d find him asleep in the woods with a book in his hand, it was always so—“

“How _smart_ of a parenting choice is it to let a child wander in the _wilderness_ unsupervised?!” Mrs. Plisetsky shrieks.

Yuuri and her lawyer both give her a look, and Yuuri replies calmly, “I can see you’ve never been to the west.”

“I won’t go where a locomotive can’t take me, thank you very much.”

“Then you haven’t lived.” Yuuri replies evenly. “The best places on earth often aren’t on any maps, can’t be reached by locomotive, and definitely can’t be met with any reservations such as your own. That’s what I’ve learned.”

“You’re barbaric, and you’re ruining my grandson with such a barbaric upbringing. This is why—“

“Mrs. Plisetsky, perhaps we should go back inside.”

“I just wanna let you know, Mrs. Plisetsky, that this boy is a treasure. I’ve had the pleasure of raising him over the past five years, and… I would like to continue to do that.”

The lawyer sighs when Mrs. Plisetsky starts rambling. “Perhaps your lawyer should discuss having you as a witness.”

“I can’t.” Yuuri says, “It’s against the law, as I’m sure you’re aware. It puts me at an unfair advantage be-because I– I really care for him… he’s my son and-and thinking I might lose him?”

“It is my understanding that you have a daughter with Mr. Nikiforov.” Says the lawyer, nodding towards the baby slung across his chest.

“I do, but,” Yuuri reddens. “Wait, are you implying I can just replace him? He’s not just some charge of mine. He’s my _son._ ”

“He’s your son as much as I’m your cobbler.” Mrs. Plisetsky turns up her nose.

Yuuri takes offense, but he simply turns his head and watches the busy traffic until the lawyer and Mrs. Plisetsky go back to the courtroom.

“What was my father’s middle name?” Yura asks after a while. It's clear he doesn't like the silence, either.

“I don’t know. Victor mentioned something about Russians not having traditional middle names.”

“Oh. Um… are you going to have more kids?”

Yuuri makes a face, then laughs. “I don’t know… maybe? Why?”  
  
“Do you think that maybe I could pick their middle name?”  
  
“Sure, what do you have in mind?”  
  
“Josef.”

“I like that. I think Victor likes that name too. So maybe.”

“And Josefina for a girl!”

“Okay, Yura,” Yuuri chuckles, kissing his hair. “You can choose, but Victor wanted to choose. Wait. Why am I talking about this?”

“I bet you’re gonna have lots of kids now that I’m out of the way. It’s… it’s more room, and… you always said I drive you crazy…”

“Hey. You don’t have to justify leaving. If that’s what makes you happy, then you can go. I understand.”

“You said sometimes it’s hard to leave. When you…”

“Love someone? Yeah, it’s really hard.” Yuuri gives him a wary look. “You don’t have to say it, Yura, we already know. Well, I know. Victor probably doesn’t. But he will.”

“I was really mad at him because what he did to you. But I know he’s really sad and I feel bad for him now. Killing that guy was hard to do.”

“What?? You knew about—“

“I overheard…” Yura avoids his eyes, thinking back to the day he heard Chris talking about the murder to Otabek's stepfather...

“Oh, Yura, _please_ tell me you didn’t say a word of this to your grandmother…” Yuuri is pale, shaking,  _what_ is it that he's so concerned about, here?

“Of course I didn’t, I’m not an idiot. Victor would.. go to jail for this, right?”

“Right. And we don’t want that. Do you- do you know who he killed?”

“The guy that lived in the house in the woods, obviously.”

“The… what?” Yuuri squeaks.

“His name was Ch—“

“How did you know about him?!”

“Well, I was out with Otabek one day while you and Victor were at the fort. And he asked me all sorts of questions about you. I asked him what he wanted, and he said he was an old friend. So we went to the house, but you weren’t there. And he left.”

Yuuri feels dizzy. He sits on the steps, nearly stumbling over. “What… what did he _say_?”

“Lots of stuff. I thought you knew. I’m sorry.”

“What _exactly_ did he say?!”

Yura looks afraid, as he didn't realize talking about this would mean he'd get interrogated. _You shouldn't have brought this up, stupid_. “Um.. I can’t remember it all. I… didn’t take him inside! He stayed out. His hair was kinda long, he had really, really dark eyes. Like… demon dark—“

“I _know_ what he looks like—“

“And he just… I don’t know. He was kinda creepy. He kept asking about some _Yuki_ . I have no idea what a _yuki_ is.”

Yuuri is stricken. There are some things he will never tell his son, and this is one of them. “Ah, _yuki_ is the Japanese word for snow.”

“That makes no sense. Why would he ask for snow?”

“Never mind that. Did he hurt you? Steal anything?”  
  
“No… why? What did he do that was so bad?”

“Yura, please. I don’t want to talk about this.”  
  
“Hey, Victor _killed_ someone. Shouldn’t I know why so I can lie for him??”  
  
“SHH!” Yuuri hisses. “Someone might hear you.”

Yura folds his arms. “Why did he do it? Was this guy — a bad person?”

Yuuri faces the opposite direction. “To say the least.”

“That doesn’t mean he deserved to get killed. Nobody deserves to get killed.”  
  
“Hah..” Yuuri sniffles, “There is so much you don’t know about that man. What he’s done. You wouldn’t— you know, never mind.” As if November isn't already a difficult time of year for him. Now having to hear about the man who causes an ache in his heart every single year when he has to remember the death of his son? He wishes he could just forget altogether. And yet, he knows he never will. 

“Why didn’t he tell you he killed someone?” Yura asks, completely unaware of the severity arising from him continuing to talk about this right here in the open. “Obviously you’re not against it.”

“Please stop talking about him, it is very upsetting for me.” Yuuri says shakily, blinking back the tears that seem to always come the moment _he_ is mentioned. “And something I don’t like talking about. I can assure you, Yuri Plisetsky, he was more than a bad person, and I shouldn’t have to say this, but you are too young to understand the actual severity of what he’s done.”

Yura shrugs. “If Victor’s caught he’s gonna be killed no matter what the reason is right?”

“Let’s not talk about that, either.”

To their luck, Mrs. Plisetsky is not granted custody. They get to go home together that day and never worry about losing him for a while after that. Yura doesn't bring up their strange visitor again, either.

* * *

 

***

December, 1860

Harper's Ferry, Virginia

Our story is almost finished, and it is now December 1860. If I go much further, we’d be in trouble, because we’re on the eve of the Civil War, and no good story ends on a war. Still, there’s a bit left to tell... 

For Christmas, Yuuri, of course, invited his family to stay through the new year. To Yuuri’s extreme dismay, Victor invited his half of the family, too, but not for nearly as long. Yuuri tried to discourage it, just because he doesn’t like Victor’s mother, and… by inviting Victor’s brother, it means him bringing along his six boys and wife, and there certainly isn’t the room in this house. Victor says, as there are four bedrooms, plenty of inns in town, and a guesthouse with one bedroom, that they will have to fit everyone in and he doesn’t need to worry about it.

He keeps his mouth shut and pretends to be happy to see his in-laws when they arrive on December 22nd— two days early— and bites the inside of his cheek while they hold the baby.

Yuuri’s parents and his sister’s family come on the twenty third, and Victor’s brother’s family doesn’t arrive until the morning of the twenty fourth. They bring an unprecedented amount of noise into the house, which Yuuri has to pretend he doesn’t mind in order to be a good host. He doesn’t allow any of the children near the baby in fear that she will get sick. Including himself, there are nineteen people in the house for the holidays. This is… madness. Had their house been any smaller, it wouldn’t have worked.

To his relief, Victor takes his nephews, brother, and Yura out to find a good Christmas tree and hunt for dinner, in the early afternoon. His father and father-in-law take to discussing politics in the parlor, which traps Yuuri with his mother, mother-in-law, and sister, and sister-in-law, for an unknown amount of time. The four of them are already cooking, for lunch and dinner, talking about everything from the war to what they want to wear to Mass tomorrow morning. Yuuri doesn’t have anything useful to add to anyone’s conversations, so he sits by the fire with the baby and minds his business. Which… yes, probably isn’t the best thing to do, as a host.

“I’m so glad we can be with you this Christmas,” Yuuri’s mother suddenly says in his direction. “We always meant to. Now that you live closer, we can make a tradition of this!”

“Yes, that would be wonderful,” Victor’s mother agrees. “Did you come to Independence for the wedding?”  
  
“No, but I wish I did. I never saw a photo from it, which is a shame.” His mother turns to the fire to stir lunch. “Did you get photographs taken, Yuuri?”  
  
“Uh… no, we didn’t. We didn’t… have time for that.”

“It’s a shame. But I love the pictures taken here!” Mrs. Nikiforov actually smiles at him. “It was quite a surprise, of course, as we never thought we’d get a granddaughter, or… any more grandchildren from Vitya. But nevertheless, a beautiful photo!”

“First one was kinda gross though,” Mari winks. “When are you having her christened, by the way? I want to make sure I’m able to be there. And do you have her godparents picked out?”

Yuuri blushes slightly, replying, “We haven’t decided. It’ll probably be in April, though. My friend is going to be her godmother, but I haven’t decided on a godfather yet. I’ll keep you posted.”

“Okay, then I’m only partly insulted. My first niece and I don’t get chosen? I see how it is…” She teases.

.

The children bring back a large tree, too large in Yuuri’s level-headed opinion. But he’s tired and doesn’t feel like protesting it. He just calls it a day (at noon), and retires up to his bedroom with the baby. 

To his dismay, Mrs. Nikiforov brings him lunch, instead of his mom, or husband, or literally anyone else. They’re cordial, but obviously there’s still tension.

And she clears it up right away, the moment she sets the tray down. “Looking back, perhaps I should have thought my actions through. Cutting your hair wasn’t the only option, I was just panicked. I realize you were probably more frightened than I was. I apologize for that.”

Yuuri purses his lips, but holds back a response until he can speak calmly. “I obviously didn’t know I had lice. I had just walked for four days in the snow after getting a concussion days before that. I was very disoriented.”

“As I imagine. And I was too stubborn to apologize, which put a damper on our relationship for some years now. But… I want to be in my granddaughter’s life, and I want you and I to be friends, if that’s possible.”

“Okay. I think… that would be good. For… for Lara’s sake, especially. And I’m… sorry too, for behaving rudely while I stayed at your house. I didn’t even thank you for letting us stay all those days. I’m really sorry…”

“It’s alright. Let’s put this all behind us." 

“It’s a deal.”

***

Victor wakes a little past midnight to another nightmare, not as bad, but baby Lara is gently smacking her first against his chest, wide awake. And so is Yuuri.

“She just wanted to say happy birthday to you before anyone else gets to.” Yuuri explains drowsily. “I love you.”

“I love you too. Best birthday ever,” Victor kisses Lara’s cheek. “Thanks to you both.”

It is good to have reasons to forget.

 .

Christmas morning is noisy; the children run about showing their parents what they got from Father Christmas, the women dress for Christmas service, Yuuri doesn’t feel like going anywhere but goes anyway.

He wears something ridiculously extravegant, something that outshines everyone else. A hoop skirt.

It is golden, with green stripes, and a red ribbon round the middle. He literally looks like a Christmas present. Mrs. Nikiforov rolls her eyes and says nothing, and Mari actually wears something similar, without the hoop, and without the red ribbon in the middle. So, he doesn’t feel so bad.

Yura glares at him under his hat, forced to wear a white, frilled shirt with red slacks like he’s an elf.

The baby matches Yuuri, but she’s being oddly clingy today and won’t let him put her down for even a moment. He’s watching her carefully for a fever or cough, and just knows the moment she so much as sniffles, everyone is getting kicked out of the house. They walk to the church, and it’s a full house, to say the least. Yuuri let’s everyone else sit and chooses to stand in the back, in case his daughter starts to fuss. To his surprise, Victor joins him. “Wh—“

“I don’t know how church works and I figure it’s better to stand in the back where no one is looking.”

He shrugs.

“Is she doing okay?”

“She’s fine, but she’d probably prefer to stay home in bed. I thinks she’s not feeling well.”

“Want to sneak out now?”

“I spent an hour getting ready, but…” Yuuri turns to him excitedly. “Two hours with just me, you, and the baby in a quiet house… let’s hurry before Mass starts.”

.

Yuuri wears nothing but his stockings and underwear and snug under his warm robe, Victor and the baby beside him. He slides a stack of wrapped packages out from under the bed, and sets them on Victor’s lap. “Happy birthday, Victor.”

“What’s this?” Even Lara eyes the packages from her perch in Victor’s arm, as if she hasn’t gotten enough gifts today already.

“Your birthday gets lost in the festivities, but I didn’t forget. Open them?”

Victor gives him a look like he shouldn’t have, but his cheeks are flushed and he's clearly excited, which is adorable. He opens the first and closes his eyes, voice quiet, “ _Yuuri_ ,” 

“So you can read to her the way that’s easiest for you. No excuses at bedtime.”

“Where did you find these?” Victor shifts through the first gift; a cluster of short children’s books, all written in Cyrillic, particularly themed around bedtime. 

“Let’s just say I know a guy. But… open the rest, okay?”

He nods and carefully sets the children’s books aside to open the second, third, and fourth. They are books from his home country and translated English classics, too. “Um… I didn’t know what you liked to read. But… everyone likes _Moby Dick_ , so that’s a—“

“Moby _what_?”

“And.. the last gift… I want you to come downstairs for this one. I… want to play a song for you.”

“You will make me cry.”

“Mm… think of a song you really like, and I will sing it. Or... or play it, if it doesn't have words.”

“Yuuri, you’re too good to me.” Victor sits on the sofa. “How about Hard Times? I liked that one.”

“Are you sure you wouldn’t like something more… positive?”

“Can I request more than one song?”

“Okay…”

“Play the song you wrote for me.”  
  
Yuuri blushed. “W-What?”  
  
“You have been working on it for weeks. I know it, love. I want to hear it.” 

“O-Okay. Here it goes.” Yuuri sits in front of the piano and takes a deep breath. “This one’s for you.”

 _Love is unconditional,_ Yuuri thinks to himself as he moves his fingers across the piano keys while he tries to remember the words. They aren't coming to him, so he tries his hardest to express his love through the keys. The song was about a man calling out to another man, wanting him to stay close... but all he can think about is Victor and his own love, and...

 _Love is eternal…_  

_Love is patience, love is trust, I never knew love before I knew yours._

  

_I didn’t know how to love before,_

_What I should do when I loved someone_

_Who never loved me_

 

_But you showed me the possibility of being loved back,_

_And it made me strong._

 

_It makes me so strong, your love._

_I love you so much…_

 

Victor smiles widely and moves to kiss him the moment the song is completed. “I want you to know I’ve never been happier in my life. Thanks to you and the gifts you have given me. Gifts like… this music, this family… and nothing I could try and give you today will top that at all, so I won’t even try. But I’m still hoping that you’ll like it.”

“Where’s my present?”  
  
“Let’s wait until everyone else gets here. I want them to see how great of a husband I am so your sister will stop giving me cold looks.”  
  
“Victor, please… I just gave you your gifts..”

“Impatient, are we? Sure. I’ll give you your less amazing present first, then.” He smiles wickedly, “You and I are going on vacation to Paris for our anniversary.”

Yuuri parts his lip and looks at him for a few moments. “Are you… being serious right now?” _This has to be some sick joke… where would he get that kind of money from?_ “Y-You’re not… are you? We’re not… _really_ going to Paris, are we?”

Victor nods, and Yuuri gasps. “ _Victor_ , _tell me_ you’re joking! Don’t tease me like this!!!”

“We’ll be gone for a good three weeks, at least." He hugs Yuuri from the side, excitement bubbling up inside of him, "Now- I know how you’re feeling— you’re probably worried about the children, as you should, but…”  
  
“I- I can’t leave Lara for that long, what if— what if something—”

“That’s why they’re coming too. Just… not sharing a room with us. I’ll hire someone to watch them. Don’t worry about it, okay?”

“Well… okay. I’m not even going to ask how we’re affording this, but… thank you.”

.

Yuuri has to wait patiently through breakfast for his gift, so he zones out from the conversation to try and imagine just what it is that Victor has gotten him. It can’t be something too big, since he’s already bought tickets to Paris. And why should he have to wait to be given it?

Everyone moves into the living room after breakfast, and Yuuri stands expectantly by the tree while Victor takes his precious time in the other room with Yuuri’s parents, for some reason…

“Why don’t you come sit down, Yuuri?” Mrs. Nikiforov asks. “You seem impatient. And where did you go during church?”

“Um… the baby wasn’t… feeling well.”

“Oh, really? What happened to her?”  
  
Yuuri’s eyes trail over to the door, where his parents are, and he watches them sit down on the sofa as well. His face flushes and he turns back to the window. _What are you up to?_

There’s a hush over the room suddenly, but Yuuri’s blushing too furiously to look. _You’re going to embarrass me in front of everyone, aren’t you_?

Victor clears his throat and Yuuri feels tears prick at the corners of his eyes. “I want to give you your gift now.”

“Sure.” Yuuri’s voice cracks, and he hates himself for it. “T-The tickets to Paris weren’t enough? You’re really trying to show me up, aren’t you?”

“Just replacing something rightfully yours.”

When Yuuri finally dares to look at him, he can’t find him. That is, until he looks down to find Victor on one knee, opening a small, black box. Yuuri covers his mouth.

“How fair is it that you traveled more than a thousand miles just to meet me, another thousand miles just to stay with me, a man who had nothing to his name, no home, no money, nothing offer you— and you insisted on staying with me. You built an entire life with me, suffering all the way, and yet I… I never really asked you what you wanted. I always assumed. I never listened. So obviously it isn’t fair that despite all you did for me, I never even asked you if you wanted to marry me. So I’m going to ask you now.”  
  
“What the—” Yuuri covers his eyes, in disbelief that everyone has to see him be so emotional when he’s always been— okay, that’s a lie, he’s never been stable around everyone.

“The ring I gave to you before was worn and damaged from the hardship you had to endure for me, something I promised would never happen, and won't happen now that we are here. So I have a new one, if you’d just… why are you crying?”

“Be-because I— I don’t deserve _any_ of this?” Yuuri sinks onto his knees and lets Victor hold him tightly, forgetting anyone else is in the room. “You don’t have to _ask_ me to stay with you, you never did, I- of _course_ I want to be with you… and…”  
  
“Would you marry me again?”  
  
Yuuri sniffs and nods against his shoulder. “J-Just say where…”  
  
“What if I said Paris?”

“I’d tell you you’re crazy. And I’d say yes, obviously. I’ve always wanted to go abroad. Let’s… let’s go on an adventure together.”

 

 

* * *

Spring-Summer, 1860

Nebraska

***

**“Elephant in the Room”**

An "elephant in the room" is an expression referring to an obvious problem or risk that no one wants to discuss.

List some examples of an elephant in the room. 

 

Yura tapped his pencil against the table and watched Yuuri embroider a handkerchief. _I could name a few._

He listened to the sound of Victor’s footsteps going back and forth upstairs while he packed for his trip. He will be gone all summer, Yuuri said, and the two of them will go on vacation once school let out. Without Victor. So he supposed one elephant in the room is the reason Victor was leaving and how unwell he was. But compared to the second problem, the second _elephant_ , that will get increasingly bigger that happened to be attached to Yuuri’s midsection— it was nothing. Nothing at all.

Breakfast was cooking over the fire, but no one was hungry and it would surely go to waste. He thought Yuuri only made it because he was used to doing it anyway.

And when Victor started coming down the ladder, dragging a heavy bag, Yuuri sighed— the kind of sigh one does when they are very upset about something and doing their best not to show it. Yura watched his parents’ eyes meet, some unspoken agreement, and then Victor nodded. He walked over to the table Yura was sitting at and waited for him to look up. “I have to go now. Is that okay?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“I’m counting on you to hold down the fort when Yuuri can’t, but I also really want you to do your best in your schooling. Your teacher told me she wanted you to move up a grade.”

“I’m not going to quit school just cause you’re gone.” He leaned over so Victor could hug him and just be gone, so the _elephant_ (the smaller one) would go away for a while. “Just make sure you come back.” He said, hesitantly deciding to hug Victor for good measure. He wanted to stay away from him. Not because he’d done anything directly _to_ him, but because the word _murderer_ entered his mind whenever Victor got too close.

“I will.”  
  
And then, he walked outside, and Yuuri was quick to follow, handkerchief in hand. It wasn’t even done.

And they went outside because they thought he wouldn't hear them, but he did, and they talked about everything except the big elephant, and Yura had to wonder why. He caught Yuuri say something along the lines of being unsure if he could do this alone and “can’t lose you”-’s, and Yura decided to stop trying to listen. He moves his homework into his own bedroom to block out the noise.

“Just come back to me. That’s all I ask?” Yuuri whispered, face wet and staining Victor’s shirt. “I know what it’s like to have nothing to live for. To not want to fight anymore. And I don’t want you to succumb to that idea.”

“I do my best not t—”  
  
“I love you with my whole heart and soul. The pain you feel, I feel it too. And I’m praying that God delivers and helps you through this in a way that I cannot.” He pressed the kerchief into Victor’s grip and kissed him again. “Be safe.”

Victor stroked his cheek and gives him a tender look. “You too, baby.”

On one selfish hand, Yuuri’s deep down thought was, what if he’s only leaving because of me? What if he’s tired of _me_?

He didn’t voice that thought. It was too selfish to say at a time like this. Victor was struggling and it didn't matter how Yuuri personally felt right now. Part of the reason Victor struggled was because the focus had always been on Yuuri. He really couldn't think otherwise because it was true.

He watched Victor leave and tried to pretend there wasn't an aching hole in his heart. Things will not be the same in September when he returns— _if he returns_ — and Victor doesn’t realize that. 

_I have to do this alone._

_Oh_ god _._

 _I have to do this alone._  

. 

“Have a good day at school,” Yuuri put on a smile for his son. He can cry all he wants when he’s home alone for the next seven hours, but right now he needed to be strong. “You can go to Otabek’s house if his father says it’s okay.” 

“Awesome,” Yura shrugged. “Are you… gonna be okay here?” 

“Yeah, of course, why wouldn’t I be? Don’t worry about me.” 

 _Are we ever going to talk about the elephant in the room_? 

.

Victor once made Yuuri promise to never go to Dobytown alone. It’s not that Yuuri isn’t capable of driving himself or anything like that. Dobytownº is filled with drunks, prostitutes, and men who don’t take no for an answer. But it has a mail post, a store and a few other necessities. And the school, but none of the drunks and prostitutes come near, especially not with the officer who patrols the town. (He’s usually tipsy, himself). 

Halfway through Yuuri’s pity party of the day, Michael visited. It’s obvious why Yuuri had been crying, but he wanted to keep his mind off of it. Yuuri considers Michael his best friend, but they really aren't that much alike and probably wouldn't get along well if they had more people to choose from to be friends with.

So they went to Dobytown together, grabbed a bite to eat since the drunks and prostitutes are still asleep, and then Michael promised to take him to look at pretty fabric to make a new outfit. (For when Victor comes home).

“The fabric will stretch around your middle, so you will be comfortable as your child grows.” 

Yuuri nodded, turning this way and that while his measurements were taken. “I didn’t tell him before he left.” 

“Because he wouldn’t have left if you did.”

“Something like that.” Yuuri murmured. “But I will tell him, eventually. I’m not _not_ telling him, if that makes sense.” 

“Good.”

“I have a lot of questions, ah… concerns. About the pregnancy. I only made it twenty six weeks before. I’m afraid of the third trimester. The contractions. The- the full term birth.” 

“My son was born a week late. God, it was painful. I tore, I hemorrhaged, I knew he was my first, _and_ last that day. But hey, it- it doesn’t mean that’s how it’s going to be for you..”

“Now I’m terrified.” Yuuri laughed, but Michael could sense his genuine fear. “Will you please help me through it?”

“Of course I will, Yuuri. I wouldn’t think otherwise. But… I live five miles away. If something goes wrong, heaven forbid, who will be there to assist you?”

“Still figuring that part out. Hmm...I like this blue fabric. I think I’ll buy this one.”

“I’ll pay. Consider it a… baby shower gift.” Michael winked at him. 

“You’re too kind to me.” 

“You’re my friend. I care about you and you deserve to be comfortable through your pregnancy. Comfort makes a huge difference.” 

Yuuri smiled at him through the window's reflection. “Will you come over for dinner? I owe you something.”

“Sure, Yuuri, I would. But I’ve already got supper over the fire at home and Jesse’s waiting. Maybe tomorrow, though?” 

“Okay. That’ll give me more time to prepare. I’m going to make pasta and deer meat.”

“Did Victor shoot a stag for you?”  
  
“Nope, Yura did! They were hunting together yesterday evening. He wanted us to have some good meat that’ll last a while. It was huge!” 

“Why, I’m jealous. It seems to me that you’ve got quite a little hunter on your hands.”

“Which we’re lucky for.” Yuuri glanced at the price of the fabric and fishes into his pocket. “How many yards of fabric do you suppose we’ll need?”

“Hmm… at least three. But at eight cents a yard, it’s a steal. We can use the leftovers for something else. Perhaps a wrap, some shorts for Yura, something— Yuuri?” Michael noticed that Yuuri was tearing up as he gripped the fabric. “Are you alright?” 

“Yes- I-I’m sorry, I’m just—” he sniffed, waving his hand, “emotional! It’s from the baby I guess, but… you’re just— and I’m—”

“Aww, come here,” He opened his arms and enveloped Yuuri in a hug, because he knew he needed it. And Yuuri hugged him fiercely, sobbing into his shoulder from hormones, exhaustion, or perhaps the elephant in the room. “You’re going to be fine. You know that."

"I know that," Yuuri repeated, but he didn't "know that" at all. 

***

The following day was Saturday, which meant that Yura was off school and he had to do his best to keep himself together. Fortunately, it wasn’t hard to do. The Parker’s had been good help to him, giving him distractions. Like three year old Minnie, who is currently doing her best to help Yuuri prepare supper, though there’s little she can actually do. She has her hair up in double buns on top of her head; bright red, still, and she hummed to herself while pretending she was stirring supper in an empty pot on the floor. “Someday when I get big, I’m going to have a house like this. And get married!” She giggled. “But that sounds so yucky.” 

“Well, if you change your mind on the yuckiness or not, I just hope that you stay this happy, Miss Minnie,” Yuuri smiled faintly while he watched her. The older she got, the more he could see Dee in her. He wondered if, wherever he was, if he was watching over his daughter. 

And then he wondered if Miles is alive. 

And how he could possibly not care for her. 

“How old were you when you got married?” She asked suddenly. 

“Twenty.” Yuuri said, and, looking back, being twenty seemed like an eternity ago. Goodness, he was almost Victor's age when they got married. They're getting old.

“So I got a year or two, I think.”

“More than that, sweetheart. Now, supper’s just about done. Why don’t you go tell the boys to come on inside so we can eat?” 

“Okay, I’ll be right back! Don’t let my supper burn!”

Yuuri laughed, and he started to wonder about the sex of his baby. Something told him he was to have a daughter.

 .

“You know, Jesse can actual predict the sex of a baby completely accurately.” Michael said after supper, when it was just himself, Michael, and Yuuri seated on the front porch while the children played in the yard. “He predicted Minnie and tons of other relatives back east. I don’t know how he does it.”  
  
“A worthless talent,” Jesse chuckled, taking a swig of his drink. “But still, I bet I could predict yours.” 

“This early?”  
  
“Yeah. Maybe my senses will change further on, but I can bet now.” He put a finger to his lips and looked carefully at Yuuri’s stomach. “I predict that… Victor Nikiforov is not going to get a biological… son. I think it’s a girl.” 

“Bull. How can you tell?” Yuuri asked quizically. 

“Just something about you. I don’t know. I just… feel like it is. And I’m always right.” 

“Okay. Can you predict multiple babies, too? What if I’m having twins?”  
  
“You’re not having twins. Yet. You will.” He smirked, and Yuuri gaped in alarm at him. “I’m kidding! Maybe. I definitely can’t predict how many kids Victor will or will not put in you.”  
  
“I don’t think I could manage twins. I’m not patient enough.” 

“Who is?”  
  
_Lara, Lara was._

***

** Can you think of a person that inspires you? What has he or she done that makes you feel inspired?  
Write your answer in complete sentences. **

Two Saturdays later, Yuuri took his son into Dobytown to check to see if Victor had mailed anything to them yet. He visited the post every single day to check, and the only thing he got was a telegram a week ago from Victor, saying that he arrived in Independence, but that he was too tired to write and would send his love later on. Yuuri's been counting on it. He was wearing his nicer outfit today for some unknown reason. Perhaps Yuuri thought that it would be lucky or something...

They spend their evenings in silence, mostly. Yuuri cooks, Yura closes up the barn and the chicken coop. He does his homework, Yuuri washes the evening dishes. The two of them sit by the fire and read until Yura finds the pages getting blurry and Yuuri guides him to his room to change into his pajamas. Yuuri goes upstairs to change into his own, and by the time he comes downstairs, Yura is almost always asleep. He still tucks him in and sleeps in various places himself; Yura's found him asleep at the kitchen table already, face in a pile of papers that he doesn't have to be grown to understand mean  _bills_. He knew that his parents got a lot of bills. That food cost a lot of money sometimes, that it wasn't easy to keep buying fabric for clothes or new shoes every other month because Yura won't stop growing. Victor worked hard during the warm months; last summer they didn't see him at all during the day— he was either out in the field or hundreds of miles away selling whatever he could to needy travelers. Sometimes, his hard work didn't pay off. He'd bring home a few coins or items they didn't really need and look disappointed, and everyone knew how stressed he was. He knew Victor wished more than anything he could replace Yuuri's shoes; buy him a fine, comfortable pair that didn't have holes in the bottom, but Yuuri was good at pretending.

At pretending that their meals weren't stretched and that every small supper was a feast. 

Pretending that his shoes were like prince's slippers, that the stained, tight and worn clothing he owed was like regal robes. He never complained once about their situation. He simply pretended it didn't exist.

When they finally get to the front of the line at the post station, Yura felt just as impatient as Yuuri for a letter, just so he could see the lines of worry in Yuuri's face disappear. 

The postman already knew what mail Yuuri was looking for, but asked anyway. "Nikiforov," Yuuri answered immediately, standing on the tips of his toes before relaxing. He anticipated another day without a letter, but when the postman grabs a parcel from under the counter, Yura could almost see the light come back into Yuuri's eyes. "It's from him," Yuuri said happily, holding the parcel delicately. "Shall we wait to get home to open it?"

"You should open it now." Yura peered over so that he could see Victor's handwriting on the front. "What do you think it is?"  
  
"I don't know. I'd like it to be a one hundred paged letter, but it feels lighter." They walk out of the post office, and Yuuri sat on the front porch, starting to open the parcel. "I'm almost nervous," He bit his lip, but ended up with a wide smile once he saw what was inside: a pair of shoes. They aren't new, and they aren't fine slippers like he might dream of, but they are his size and will do well into the fall. "Perhaps I should wait for winter to start using these. They will do nicely, though."

"Why don't you wear them now?"

"Well... because I- I don't want to wear them out before I really need them."

"You need them now, though. You have blisters on your feet because of how tight your shoes are, and there's holes in them."

"But I can probably make these last until autumn, and then I can be comfortable all winter—"  
  
"Try them on, at least," Yura urges, but Yuuri wouldn't be persuaded. "I will use them when I need them."

.

Somehow, Yuuri waited all afternoon to read Victor's letter, but he always kept it nearby. He tucked the shoes into the cabinet in his bedroom so as not to be tempted.  
After supper, while Yura began working on his writing assignment, Yuuri finally opened the letter. He stood by the door, watching the late evening sun lower through the trees until he summoned the courage to read what his husband had to say.

Yura started to write.

**Someone who inspires me is my adopted parent, Yuuri Katsuki. I promised myself that I would hate him when we met, but I hardly remember life before him now and can't recall a time where I actually hated him. He has taken care of me since I was four years old. I was an orphan before that. I do not remember my mother, but my father wasn't involved in my life and liked me best when I was quiet, all the time. It was very hard for me to talk to Yuuri. But he was patient. He waited until I was ready and didn't make a big deal about it. That, of course, is not why he inspires me. It's just part of the reason he means a lot to me.**

**Yuuri inspires me because of his strength. My adopted father, Victor, provided for the two of us by often leaving and traveling west to trade with people going to Oregon. For a while, he made a lot of money doing this. Because of that, you'd think Yuuri would be happy, but I guess he missed my dad. Still, he stayed strong. Even when he was really sad, he always took care of me. Always smiled.**

**When we first came to Nebraska, Yuuri lost someone very important to him. It was very difficult for him to continue on, but he did. And one time, when it was particularly cold and crammed in our temporary house in Fort Kearney, I was complaining. Yuuri told me not to, that some day I'm going to forget what it's like to be thankful for what I have because I'll be so** **successful. I find it inspiring that he is able to be thankful, despite all that he has lost. He has never given up.**

**Even now, I'm watching him, and he's trying not to cry as he has just finished reading a letter from my dad. The letter is clutched in his hand against the door, and he's watching the sunset, probably trying to think of how he's going to be strong enough to turn around and face me with a smile, to tell me that everything's going to be okay, even though my dad is very sick and I know Yuuri is worried he'll never come back. He's going to tell me everything's okay, because telling me that is him telling himself that. He's so tired, he gets tired a lot, but he doesn't rest until everyone else does. I can't imagine how hard that is.**

**I hope to someday be as strong as him, but all I can feel now, despite how sad I know he feels, is hope.**

**He's struggled this long, so some day, he is going to live a life better and happier than he ever could've imagined. We will have to have faith and really _hope_ for it. **

**And he's never given up hope, either, so I know it will be so. He had hope at the campfire somewhere on the prairie as he sang to us, despite having a day filled with nothing but sorrow. I don't remember all the words, but he filled us all with hope that day, asking for hard times to come again no more. And someday, they won't. I will make sure of it.**

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> º: Dobytown (Kearney City) was located three miles west of Fort Kearney and officially founded in 1859. It had a Pony Express station, but was known for its gambling, liquor, and prostitution (fun!).  
> After the big railroad (Union Pacific) was completed in 1869, Dobytown was abandoned, and is no longer there today. But for Yuuri, this would have been a major convenience to be able to access reliable mail, clothing, food, and booze. Thus concludes today's history lesson! 
> 
> Lara's alive! She's here! Everything's going to be okay now, I promise! (fingers crossed behind back)  
> Lara's such an important character in this story to me personally, though her character is so brief (yes, I'm talking about Lara G., not the baby lmao) so I had to bring her back in time for the ending. She's been through a lot, she's lost everything, but... maybe things will get better now? We'll see. 
> 
> [I know this chapter was kind of all over the place, but we had a lot to cover in order to finish on time. <3]
> 
> I am making a sort of... separate epilogue series thingy called "left unsaid" or something, where I tell you what happened to the characters that disappeared at one point or another and where they went. There will be one for JJ and Isabella (because I know y'all are curious about that), Miles, Chris, Sara and Mila, PHICHIT, and —. They're all like 1k words or less and will be posted at the same time, AFTER this story's epilogue. And in —'s, I will reveal his name. :o
> 
> In the main epilogue, you will get to hear about the fun fun Civil War!!! (Don't worry, they're not enlisting), some Plisetsky drama, how baby Lara grows up, perhaps some brothers and sisters for her? (:O), what happens to Chris and Lara G, and most importantly, why everybody went off the grid in 1880.
> 
> [This](http://chikao-art.tumblr.com/post/178121337131/commission-piece-for-red-likes-yuuri-looking) is a link to the fantastic, stunning, amazing, BEAUTIFUL art was commissioned by my all time favorite artist, Chikao. I wanted to surprise you all with something as a little thank you for the support over the past 7 months. This story was a lot of fun to work on and I am incredibly happy that I'm going to finish it. (perhaps some bonus pieces later? let me know). But please go support [Chikao](http://chikao-art.tumblr.com) on Tumblr because she makes a lot of beautiful art and deserves some appreciation!


	12. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *Civil War noises*

_Dear Yuuri,_

 

_Thank you for inviting me and my husband to your daughter’s christening. I feel like we do not deserve this as we completely abandoned you after her birth, so I’d like to explain myself. The following morning, that is, September the 22nd, I woke up feeling quite ill. My husband wrongfully assumed that you had given me your sickness, when in reality, as we found out a few days later upon arriving at my cousin’s home, I was simply suffering from morning sickness. I expect our first child to be born around the time of your daughter’s christening, so I regret having to say I will not be able to attend. But I send my regards as well as a christening gift. I hope all is well over in the States, though from our cozy perch in Canada, I am hearing that it, indeed, is not. I pray for your safety._

_Isabella Leroy_

* * *

Friday, April 12th, 1861 

Harper's Ferry, Virginia 

 

“Didn’t you hear? A beautiful little princess is going to get christened today! Why, people from far and wide are going to attend, and it’ll surely make this date go down in history for how lovely it is!”

Yuuri smiles faintly and buries his face in one of his pillows. Why must his daughter take after her father in her sleeping schedule?

“Alright, Larisa, let’s get you a bath before everyone else wakes up and hogs the tub. Then we can take a walk to calm your nerves. Are you nervous about today? You’ve no reason to be. You’ll do fine.”

“She doesn’t understand a word you say,” Yuuri murmurs without opening his eyes. “And neither do I, sometimes.”

“She understands everything,” Victor contradicts, and Yuuri feels him leaning towards his side of the bed. He is not surprised when he feels a kiss pressed to his shoulder. “We are the best of friends.”

“While that makes me quite glad,” Yuuri turns over to be face to face with the quiet infant and smiles at her, “you two get up too early. I’d appreciate if your shenanigans were quieter. Really.”

“We’re just excited, is all.” Victor says, lifting Lara from the bed. “Come on, love, let’s go get you washed up then and let Mr. Grumpy-pants sleep a spell longer.”

Yuuri appreciates the quiet, but he also strains to listen to every last “conversation” between his husband and daughter, and his heart so very full when he hears her laughter.

  
.

Yuuri wore a lovely lovely muslin day dress similar to the one his godmother bought him the fall before, and he feels quite elegant in it. Yura and Victor match in semi-formal suits and the baby wears her christening gown. Instead of taking the carriage, the group of them walk to the church. Yuuri keeps his eyes ahead of him and Victor tried to ignore anyone else other than the baby on her special day.

The church is already quite filled by the time they arrive, but the front row has been reserved for them. Victor feels uncomfortably warm the moment he sits down between Yuuri and his son. Yuuri is the only person in a dress here that isn’t wearing a hat. His hair is pinned back and he has a few pieces curled in the front. His lips are pink and there is a blush on his cheeks. _He’s glowing_ , Victor thinks, _and I look nothing more than average_.

Victor shakes his head and puts his hands on his knees. _I hate going to church. It’s stuffy and I know that that priest said people kill for noble reasons when they are forced, but that doesn’t mean God hasn’t forgiven me. I don’t belong in here._ He looks at the stained glass depicting the Virgin Mary and the infant baby Jesus, with Mary’s spouse, Joseph, keeping watch. _I think I’m like Joseph. I bet Joseph felt insignificant being in a family with such almighty people. His role was to protect. He died after a life of hard work. When you see how much Mary and Jesus did, Joseph’s life seems like hardly anything. But then…_ Yuuri happens to turn his head while Victor is looking at him and gives him a soft smile. He reaches down to lace their fingers together and then rests his head against Victor’s shoulder. _Alone, Joseph isn’t seen as much. But when he stands with his family, he has a purpose. He means something._

_._

They host a garden party after the ceremony is over, since the weather is quite pleasant. Yuuri went out of his way before the ceremony to apologize to Chris for pinning him in the awkward situation of having to see his ex wife, but he said to think nothing of it, that both of them were here for the baby and were on good terms.

That eased some of his worry, but not all of it.

For while Yuuri, a few of his neighbors, family members, and Lara Karlsson are enjoying a cup of tea in the garden, there’s some sort of commotion coming from the bottom of the hill, a… celebration? And then moments later, an argument between several men. Needless to say, it’s decided that someone should go and investigate. Chris is the man for the job and calmly walks down to the source of the noise while the rest of them wait for the news.

The moment Lara Karlsson spots Chris enter the yard, she calls, “What’s happened now, Chris?”

“Oh, nothing much, really,” He takes a seat at the table and pours himself a cup of tea, speaking casually, “the usual, split opinions, brothers vs brothers, the south is attacking Fort Sumter, we are at war—”

“ _What_?” Yuuri cries.

_We are at war._

"War, huh? That's interesting, to think the rebels can actually hold their own." Victor pours a little bit of alcohol into whatever he is drinking, keeping his eyes on the dozing baby in his arms. "No big deal, though, I'm sure."

"It  _is_ a big deal, don't pretend it's nothing for my sake." Yuuri chides him. "I've been following the progressions just as much as you have, and if you wanted to hide me from the action, you should have chosen another place."

Chris laughs, internally trying to remember where his aspirin is. The chatter at this table— everyone talking at once— is surely going to give him a headache. 

"But if we stayed in the west, that house was going to fall apart. It- It literally  _did_!"  
  
"I'm just saying you could've chosen somewhere  _else_!" Yuuri can feel his hands shaking; everyone's eyes are on him for a brief moment, which he hates. "I'm not saying the war didn't need to happen; it should. The rebels or- or  _Confederates_ or whatever they're called, need to be stopped."  
  
"What do you mean, saying their name in disgust?" One of their neighbors asks suddenly, giving Yuuri a cold look. "Has your husband shielded you with ignorance?"

"Ignorance? How am  _I_ the ignorant one when you count people by three-fifths?" Yuuri stands up and walks away so he doesn't lose his temper in front of so many...

"People?" The neighbor scoffs, calling after him, "They're  _slaves_!" He looks to Victor. "You should teach him his place. There's no good for him, going around talking like that around here. Or anywhere, really. His beliefs border stupidity, and I hope you don't share them." 

"I do." Victor says calmly. "As does nearly everyone here, I'm sure. And why don't you? You're so poor that your children eat bugs, yet you think abolishing slavery is the problem with this country. I invited you because you did me a favor last year, not so you could spew your ignorance."

"Okay Nikiforov," Another man— one that Victor actually works with— stands up, "I ask again why you moved here. You should've gone north to the Yankees instead of choosing the south if you're so opposed to what we do."

"I came here on business. And come now, sir, Virginia can hardly be considered the south."

"But it's hard to say whether or not it'll swing in the United States' favor. The same goes for Maryland and Delaware, at least." Yuuri's father contributes to the conversation, finally. He's so tired of hearing about this, but now that a war has actually begun, it's all he'll ever hear about. Slavery's wrong and shouldn't exist, period. If the South could see common logic, he feels, there'd be no reason for this war to happen. 

"I wouldn't worry about  _that_ ," Comes Mari's husband, "what I would worry about is living in a hotspot like this. What was it, just two years ago that that... John fellow held a siege here? That was only the beginning, of course. This is a good spot to be able to control, having access to both rivers and the resources of this town, too. Not to mention, the railroad."

Mrs. Katsuki gives Victor a look, somewhere between annoyance and concern. "Take Yuuri and the children back to Delaware, for now. You must get away from this place before it's too late..."

"Don't worry, Mrs. Katsuki," Victor looks at his sleeping daughter and sighs. "We'll be just fine, here."

.

It’s difficult to discreetly have a panic attack during a party in which you are the host, but Yuuri does so anyway. He sits by the river as he struggles to breathe, mind flooded with all of the horrible possibilities of the war. People will die. His own children or Victor may die. Who will win? What happens if the rebels win?

Yuuri hugs his stomach while his head swirls, nausea threatening to overtake him. It is difficult to have to think about a future where he is so unsure of what’s to come. Not being able to guarantee the safety of his own children terrifies him.

He hears someone walking nearby and prays they aren’t coming towards him, but it is just his luck that they are, and what makes it even worse is that it’s Victor’s mother. He had hoped that after Christmas she would return to Missouri where she belonged, but unfortunately she ended up staying in nearby Richmond, Virginia, to help one of her sister’s children through a particularly rough pregnancy, so of course she was able to make it to the christening. Of course.

“I was told I’d find you here,” She says, lingering behind him until Yuuri turns his head to acknowledge her. “Terrifying, isn’t it?”  
  
“Very.” Yuuri sighs. And to think he should’ve been in Paris still, enjoying the sights and not worrying a bit about his country being at war. Unfortunately after some particularly inclement weather, their journey was postponed until the end of the month, at least. And now that there is a war going on, it’s likely they won’t be able to leave at all.

“Victor says he won’t enlist, so don’t you worry about that. I don’t think anyone, especially you, would let him, besides.”

“He is a stubborn man. He’ll enlist if he wants to.” Yuuri says sadly. “I wish I was in France. We could’ve stayed until the war ended; wouldn’t that have been nice?”

“Don’t give up on your dreams just yet. The men are all saying that this won’t last long, that Lincoln’s army will take care of this problem in no time at all.”

“God, do I hope so,” Yuuri looks at her. “How do you feel about all this? Is it silly of me to be crying so much about something I can’t control?”  
  
The two of them look at the railroad bridge, and Mrs. Nikiforov adds, “No, it’s a thing parents do more than anything else. It’s just instinct to worry.” She puts a hand on his shoulder, “But don’t let that stop you from living your life. You must try to go on as if none of this is happening. For your daughter’s sake.”

 _  
_ ***

They think, for the first few weeks, anyway, that they're going to be fine in this town. That the war will end quickly; it's what everyone in the North's favor tries to say. The Southerners are saying similar things, too, so it's hard to know who to believe. But Yuuri notices the changes.

Particularly, in quite a few townspeople hanging Confederate flags from their homes. 

Things don't really heighten for Yuuri personally until two months later when the Southerners conduct an attack on their town. Yuuri didn't know what happened, only that he had been woken by a loud explosion, and, several hours later, was being evacuated from the town.

They lost their bridge, a telegraph station, and an armory...

 _We always think it won't happen here, it won't affect us directly,_ He had written that day,  _but it does, it always does._

* * *

 

April, 1863 

Yuuri jolts the moment he hears a knock on his front door and shoots a look towards little Lara, who is asleep on the sofa in the parlor.  _Should I answer it_? He glances around for something to defend himself, should he actually attempt it. Whoever is there knocks again.  _Oh, Victor, why did you have to go down to the canal on today of all days_? The knocking is persistent, so Yuuri has no choice but to fish one of Victor's revolvers from his desk drawer, stuff it into his pocket, and pull open the heavy door. His eyes widen when he recognizes the uniforms of the men in front of him; they are from the rebel's army. 

“May I speak to the man in charge of this household?” Says the leader of the bunch in a faint Southerner's accent.

Yuuri gives him a cold look. “No, you may not.” He almost closes the door on the soldier, but to his horror, the man props it open.

“Please, my group needs a place to stay, just for the night.”

“I will not allow another rebel to set foot in my house, not after the terrible deeds you’ve done to this town and stealing away thousands of our men, my friends, even, and—”

“We’re trying to escape.” The man says quietly. “Me and my six friends. We’re done supporting this bullshit. Please… just one night, and we’ll leave at dawn.”

Yuuri frowns. “What happens to me if you’re caught? What if this is a trap!? A rouse to get more information from the Union!" And again, he pushes against the door, but this man is strong. “Please, sir…” Half of his foot is across the hinge of the door. 

"Come any closer and I'll shoot your foot off." Yuuri says darkly. "What reason do I have to trust you?"

"We'll offer you ten dollars for the night." Says another man. "Come on, I just want to go home and see my mom."

Yuuri peers behind them at the town below. "Where is the rest of your men?"

"Charles Town, sir. We've been on the run since yesterday."

"And you're... sincere about this?" He swallows. "I cannot let you in until my husband returns. Until then, you can..."

 

***

Victor could help these men get to Northern Territory. He knows this land just as well as he knew the west and as Chris somehow enlisted, despite his age, he knew his usual location through code. But what if these men weren’t sincere? It’s frightening to think that they could cause someone’s demise, but Yuuri has a feeling they're sincere.

But Victor won’t go, of course he won’t.

He still worries. He listens to a conversation between two men as they are hiding in their attic and turns over to look at the photograph on their nightstand. _How wonderful life was before this godforsaken war. The war that everyone said wouldn’t last a month. Now I’m going hungry every day and spend all my time terrified that a battle’s going to happen in my very yard, unable to leave my town because of the frequent battles nearby._

 _And_ , oh, Yuuri doesn’t want to think of this, but the thought comes anyway, _my miscarriage last autumn was caused by the stress of this war._ Yuuri tears up and has to get out of bed in fear that Victor will wake from him sniffling and want to talk about what is bothering him. 

It was an unexpected pregnancy. Lara was not yet two when they found out about it. Victor was the first to know, of course, and he was overjoyed. They needed a break from all the horrors of the war. Not three weeks later, though, did a battle come to their very town, spanning three days. It ended a few days before their daughter’s birthday, but by that point, Yuuri had already fallen ill. For he had spent those days watching— watching dozens of men die, hundreds get injured, and, not to mention— twelve thousand Union soldiers be taken prisoner. It scared him more than anything he'd witnessed prior to now; and the soldiers came just a tad too close to his home for comfort— literally  _occupying_ his home as a hospital for some days after.

It was during this time Victor wished they stayed in Nebraska, but with all its droughts and lack of medical care and supplies, Victor knew they’d fare no better. He stayed by Yuuri’s side and watched in horror when his sheets started turning a scarlet color. He knew what it meant; he wasn’t that inexperienced. It was just fortunate that they had a doctor in the house to help him when he wasn't busy with other wounded soldiers.

It was a good thing Lara Karlsson was around too, to help Yuuri through it just as she’d done before. And she told him he had two choices: wait until the war ended to start having children again, or never have another.

Yuuri was still debating on his answer, all these months later. During the time of his recovery, he never left his room out of fear. The battle really took a toll on him.

But that didn’t matter right now, he decided. There was more to his life than having children. And everyone’s lives were put aside until the war was done.

He has plenty of wishes for what he’d like to do after, but even more for what he wants to do now. Most of all, he longs for his daughter to not be forced to grow up in an environment where she’s grown used to military occupation and gunfire. It doesn’t even scare her anymore, for this is all she’s ever known.

As for Yura, he left last fall to meet and visit with his mother’s family and hasn’t come back. Apparently, it’s safer there. He missed out on the miscarriage and the battle and… Yuuri supposes he’s lucky for that, but he still misses him terribly.

.

Yuuri's absence is noticed shortly after bedtime when Lara wakes from a nightmare, crying, and cries louder upon being picked up by Victor and not Yuuri. She cries until Victor has no choice but to find out where Yuuri has wandered off to. Fortunately, he doesn't take long to find out. Yuuri is standing on the balcony.

“There he is, see? He probably just wanted some air.”

It is pleasant outside still, Victor finds, which would be a logical reason for Yuuri to be outdoors.

“She was looking for you,” Victor says before Yuuri turns to greet them with a smile.

“Sorry, I was just… thinking.” Yuuri turns to him and kisses him suddenly.

“About what?” Victor asks, giving him a concerned look. Ever since the miscarriage, he’s been worrying about Yuuri nonstop. It was very hard on him, despite being very early along, and…

“All those soldiers are headed north. Perhaps we could travel with them and get to Ohio, to be with Yura.”

“That would be… incredibly dangerous…”

“I know but… we could follow them for a spell… you could trade with them until we have enough money to get tickets to go by railroad. And then, after we get to Ohio, we cross Lake Erie, we go into Canada and away from this war…” Yuuri gazes up at the stars and nods to himself. "We simply must."

“You’ve got all of this planned out, but you’re missing one important detail, my darling. What do we do once we get to Canada, the four of us?”

“I have already been in contact with the Leroys. She said we need only send a telegram and they will do everything in their power to help us settle, or to travel to where we’d like to live.”

“And why can’t we just… stay here and trade until we get—”  
  
“Because no one here has money. The Union Army is using that new currency, and… that’s the only way we can buy tickets.”

“If we get caught by the rebels assisting these men to escape tonight… there’s no telling what they’ll do to us… especially you…” Victor says carefully, reaching out to touch Yuuri's arm. He is swatted away.  
  
“It’s a risk I’m willing to take to be free from this- this _bullshit_.” Yuuri whispers sharply. “Please, Victor, we must try. Yura must surely think we aren’t even trying to get to him, and I hate the thought.”

.

That night, Yuuri’s nerves are running amuck as he dresses his daughter in warm clothes when she had already been in her pajamas. “Why…?” She asks softly.

“Shh…” Yuuri hugs her close. “You must be very quiet, Lara. Everything is going to be alright. We’re just going on a little ride with Daddy.”

“But… it night time…”

Yuuri’s hands trembled as he ties her hair back. “Then go to sleep, alright? I’m not going to leave you.”

It rained heavily the night they left, and the river was flooded. Yuuri held her close to his heart while she fussed over the loud storm and tried to sing softly to her, even though his voice cracked from his fear, fear of being caught, even though the rain was far too loud for anyone to possibly hear.

“I’m scared…” She said for quite possibly the tenth time since leaving home. She has never been outside at night before, so he understands.

“How about we sing your special song, Lara? That always makes you feel better?”

She nods and weakens her grip on his shirt when he begins to sing.

“ _Slumber my darling, thy mother is near_ …”

***

The Carter family lives on the shores of Lake Erie and fish to provide for themselves. They live in a modest sized home, but they’re very kind and are overjoyed that their grandson can be reunited with his adoptive family.

They’ve never seen the boy so happy in his life than the moment he spotted his adopted parents coming up the road. He broke into a sprint to meet them halfway and is met with plenty of hugs.

“Look how much you’ve grown!” Victor says after hugging him. “I can’t even lift you up anymore!”

“That’s because you’re getting old.” Yura says, turning to look at Lara. “And look at you! I bet you don’t remember me.”

She smiles shyly. “Hi Yu-wi.”

“Hi, Lara.”

"Your hair's grown out again! Are you going to cut it?" Yuuri ruffles his hair. "It suits you this way."

.

“How long do you recken you’re staying for?” Asks Mrs. Carter after the initial reunion and introductions. Her hair is as light as Yura's, but her eyes are dark, and at the moment, kind of critical. “We could always use another fisherman.”

“We intend on heading to Canada.” Victor responds, sharing the same enthusiasm that Yuuri seems to have as if this is a good idea.

“Are you even an American citizen, Victor?”

“Well, no, not technically—“

“So, how are you going to become a Canadian citizen, then?”

“Victor gained his citizenship when he married me.” Yuuri clarifies. “So there is nothing to worry about. We’ll stay the night, but we’re going to sail across the lake in the morning. We have friends waiting for us over there who will help us through the process.”

“Mm. And what of your families, huh? You’re fleeing from a war that doesn’t even concern you. It seems a bit irrational.”

“When the war goes on in your backyard, it is not. We don’t enjoy living just to survive.”  
  
“Then you are a fool.” Says the grandmother. “If you don’t try to survive, you will die.”

Yuuri smooths the front of his skirt. “We aren’t going to agree, and I’m tired. I’ve been on quite a long journey harboring fugitives and being flirted with half a dozen flirtatious, lonely men. Where may I rest?”

There was never a time in his life that he regretted leaving the United States to flee from the war. Not one.

***

May, 1863

“Is this baby Lara?” Isabella squeals, crouching down to greet the little girl once the four of them step onto Canadian shores to meet the Leroy's. “I can’t believe it!”  
  
“And this must be your daughter, Annelise.” Yuuri nods towards a black haired, blue eyed, very shy little girl in her father’s arms. “She’s beautiful.”

“She just celebrated her second birthday.” Isabella says, adding once Annelise starts hiding her face from the attention, “She’s very shy.”

“I was too.” Yuuri says. “I couldn’t be separated from my mother’s side.”

"Your hair is pretty." Lara reaches from Victor's arms to touch Annelise's hair. The toddler screams.

.

 

The two girls become friends that summer when the group of them travel east to Prince Edward Island. Yuuri falls in love with the land at once, and Victor believes it is almost as beautiful as the west. It’s unique… and also a good compromise. The perfect blend of what the two of them love. 

They build a home, small, even smaller than their home in Nebraska. But they build it up over time, expanding room by room and eventually completing a second level with two bedrooms, but Yuuri continues to live on the bottom floor, deciding that he likes the idea of keeping himself and Victor on a separate level.

He finds his stress levels lowering dramatically now that they are away from the war. It’s difficult to understand the different money, but they figured it out. There is a schoolhouse and a college farther away. What he loves the most, of course, is the view of the sea. It's almost like being home again.

The bad part about living here is that once  the Leroy's go home, the island is lonely. They don’t know anyone and receiving mail from back home takes a long time. They can get letters from the Leroys, but Victor doesn’t particularly like them. They just stay together and try to distract themselves in other ways, so it’s really no surprise that Yuuri gives Victor another baby in the fall of 1864. This time, they are born healthy.

  
***

Peace comes temporarily to the States in April of 1865, but Yuuri has no intention of returning home. For he’s found solace in Canada and thinks it’s going to be the perfect place to raise his growing family. Eventually, he persuades Lara Karlsson to join him, along with his older sister when her husband died in 1866.

Sometimes during the summer, Victor would make trips to Canadian towns and cities for trades, as they still needed some source of income. They didn’t struggle like before, but money was often tight. That is, until a relative of Yuuri’s— his godmother— passed away at the end of 1865 (a lot of deaths went on at this time!) leaving behind her modest fortune to her beloved godson, completely relieving their financial worries. They continued to build up their home and never had to worry about money again.

Often on evenings after his children went to sleep, Yuuri would sit out on his porch at his home by the sea, close his eyes, and imagine that he was home and young again… far from any of his problems.

But when he opens his eyes once more, he decides that’s not what he wants at all. There’s no place he’d rather be than the home they made themselves, far from the war or the nightmares in the past. He didn’t realize he’d have to start anew so many times to be happy, but he has a feeling he won’t be going anywhere for a long time.

He retrieves his journal from his pocket and turns to its last page. He never thought he’d be able to complete it, and as he turns the pages thoughtfully, he looks back on his adventures with nothing but fondness now that they are all over, and he is safe. He's done much more with his life than he ever thought when lying on the beach that night twelve years ago... and through the good and bad times, he doesn't regret living a moment of it, for it's led him to where he is today.

 

_April 23rd, 1866_

_Lara came skipping home from the schoolhouse this morning with the announcement that she loves it here and loves kindergarten most of all, but that she wishes Yura could be her teacher. He completed his education under the school last spring and has already gone off to higher education at his young age, funded primarily by his grandmother. When asked what he wants to do with his life, he says he doesn’t know, and doesn’t care that he doesn’t know. College will be a nightmare if he never can decide._

_Victor thinks this safe independence will be good for him. I don’t know what I think, I just miss him and cannot wait for him to come home from academy in a few weeks for the summer._

_Yesterday, Chris told me that he is taking his ex wife back to Switzerland because her mother has just died and someone needs to deal with their estate. I asked him why he_ specifically _had to go, but he simply shrugged and told me it’s what’s right. Ever since Lara told me that Chris has never loved her, I find myself doubting it more and more, but I do suppose that’s none of my business. As long as they’re happy, I guess._

_The younger children are doing well, too. Everyone’s thriving in Canada, and Victor hardly has nightmares anymore. I can see him now, as he gathers just a few logs for the fire. He’s tired after a long day’s work, and in a few days he will head west to oversee a project himself and Mr. Leroy have been working on these past few years. But for now, he is here, and all is well._

***

Victor wakes early in the morning to depart for his trip west, but Yuuri is one step ahead and already waiting for him in the kitchen with Victor’s bags neatly packed and a meal wrapped to go. “I figured you’d get hungry.” He says with a wave of his hand. “And Mari’s been helping me with my cooking skills, so this is probably edible. She told me she isn’t sure how you’re still alive with how badly I cook.” He rolls his eyes playfully and glances at his sister’s house down the road, where the lights are still dark.

“Can’t be as bad as you were when we first married, and food is food, besides.” Victor rubs the sleep from his eyes. “Do you want anything while I’m gone?”

“A lot of letters.” Yuuri says without hesitation, wrapping his arms around Victor’s neck. “And maybe a second journal. Maybe.”

“Very well.” He leans in to kiss Yuuri, but is interupted by a tiny voice by the stairs.

“Are you leaving now, Daddy?” Lara rubs at her eyes and squints at him in the early morning light. Her long, brown hair is braided behind her, but bits stick up here and there from her sleep. “You promised you’d say goodbye to me first.”

“I did, didn’t I?” He pulls away from Yuuri and walks over to her, taking a knee. “You should be asleep, still.”

“I wanted to see you before you left!” She hugs his neck. “You’re gonna bring me back a present, right?”  
  
“Of course. What would you like?”

“A music box that plays my song.” She grins. “And if you can’t find that, maybe a puppy? Puppies are all over the place.”  
  
“I see. And what kind of puppy would you like?”  
  
“A poodle, like the one that Grandmother used to have!”

“Very well, Lara. I’ll do my best.” He hugs her a final time, then kisses the top of her head. “You’ll be good while I’m gone, right? And you’ll be helpful?”  
  
She nods quickly. “Yes, I promise!”

“Good. I’ll see you in a couple days, love.”

“Okay. Bye, Daddy.” She turns back towards the stairs so she won’t have to watch her parents’ farewells. They’re always so mushy and… blegh. 

She peeks into her bedroom, where her little brother is still asleep, and readjusts his blanket so that he doesn’t get cold. “He’ll be back soon, so don’t worry and- and don’t miss him...” She says to her brother. “He always comes back.” Nodding to herself, Lara dresses for the day and takes her braids out. Then, she goes downstairs again to check on the baby. She finds Yuuri smiling faintly as he stares out the window, even though her father is already out of sight.

“Otōsan, are you okay?”

He turns to her practically beaming, heart impossibly full. “I’m wonderful.”

_"You won't miss me too terribly, will you?" Victor kisses each of Yuuri's fingers delicately, showing utmost adoration, as always. "Oh, and by the way, once the children are a little older, I'd like to start taking you with me on these trips."_

_Yuuri's eyes widen. "Are you... are you being serious?"_  
  
_"Yes. I think you'd be better at persuading people into trades with your charms. Plus, I'm getting old and it's about time I had a proper business partner. It'd be like going on a honeymoon every couple weeks."_

 _Yuuri's smile grows and he kisses Victor firmly. "You have yourself a deal. I can't wait to go with you, Victor... in the mean time, hurry back. I'll be waiting for your return with incredible impatience. And... I'll miss you."_  
  
_"Forever, right?"_  
  
_"Yeah. Forever."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Yuuri sings the song "Slumber, My Darling" to Lara, which was written by Stephen Foster in 1862. It's also her "special song" she mentions at the end. :D
> 
> And that's (just about) it for this part of the frontier gang! I always feel like continuing but I'll probably just end up writing a whole new fic that's also historical because I like that kind of thing.
> 
> Thank you all so so so much for sticking with me all these months! When I started working on this, I didn't really think I could finish, but I pushed myself and I'm glad at how this turned out. Thanks for the patience, the support, and the COMMENTS :D now, onto some notes:
> 
> 1\. The separate epilogues thingy will be coming soon. Perhaps bookmark the Frontier AU series so you can be notified when it comes around? Also, considering adding a few more extra one-shot thingies from scenes I had to emit, so they wouldn't be full chapters but just lil things that are mostly non-angsty that y'all probably deserve...
> 
> 2\. Harper's Ferry hosted its own Civil War battle in September of '62, where something like 12k men on the Union side were taken prisoner after losing. I bet that was really comforting to watch. (NOT)
> 
> 3\. Chris is a gay man. I'm not going to follow the stereotypes where a character is "straight" but only gay for one person (or vice versa in this case). He's not going to get back together with Lara, but that doesn't mean that they don't have a future together, and you'll see why in the epilogue for them... (no hints)
> 
> 4\. RIP Minako
> 
> 5\. How many kids do you think Yuuri had at this point in the epilogue? Will I ever tell you?  
> I'm telling you. He had 3, not counting Yuri P: Lara (1860) his second is Josef *crying face* (1864), and Catherine (1865). Why don't I talk about them? Because Lara is the star of this story, obviously... :)  
> [they make appearances in Yuri P.'s epilogue tho]

**Author's Note:**

> Want to try your luck on the trail? [here's](https://archive.org/details/msdos_Oregon_Trail_The_1990#loading) an oldies game that I used to play a newer version of awhile ago. Free to play, no ads or anything. It's from archive.org btw.


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